United we Stand
by Mayto
Summary: At the height of the Human Covenant war, another galactic power intervenes to aid the embattled humans. Standing side by side with the Turians, the UNSC prepares for a new phase of the Human Covenant war.
1. Chapter 1

**New Ghent. UNSC outer colonies.  
2542:  
**  
Michael was in hell.

Just yesterday he had been thinking of picking up a new hobby, when suddenly a Covenant cruiser had appeared in orbit. Then plasma began raining from the sky, aliens methodically slaughtering their way through the streets, city blocks burning, and the stench of death filling everything. As he'd ran to safety, a squad of Marines had shoved a rifle into his hands and those of other refugees fleeing the city, bringing them to the large ONI complex that had served as a base for UNSC forces, and was now where the local resistance was rallying. He was just some ONI bookworm. He wasn't meant for this kind of crap.

They were one of the larger outer colonies and had survived by sheer luck, but that was over now. Now it was time to die.

He gripped his assault rifle as he scanned the barricades. Overturned cars, tables, sandbags, rubble. Anything that isn't nailed down was thrown on the barricades. It was manned by a hodgepodge of civilian "volunteers", conscripts, marines, some retired military men and women. Some of the volunteers held weapons like they had actual training. Either hunters, or perhaps secretly Innies. It wouldn't surprise him with how far they were from the Core Worlds. The actual marines were placed in strategic positions to be relocated as need be. The actual Marines were spread around the Complex, ready to act upon any assault. He and the other milita were there to tell them where the attack was coming from, and then die.

"Incoming!" someone yelled.

Snapping out of his introspection, Michael took aim down the main street that led towards the Complex. Grunts were coming around the corner, and lots of them. He didn't wait for orders and immediately opened fire. His aim was sloppy, but there was no need to aim here, just point and shoot down the street. Grunts fell in droves, gas tanks going off, or grenades exploding as a lucky bullet hit them.

Just as abruptly as the attack began, it stopped. MIchael ducked to reload his rifle, only to feel something very hot pass over his head. The moment he'd ducked to reload, one of those green beams had shot over his head. Pained screams came from all around as those firing at the waves of grunts were picked off in rapid successions. Blue energy balls flew overhead and turned vast sections of the defenses into slags.

The thundering sound of heavy artillery and the pop of mortar fire lit up the night as the UNSC bastion intensified its counter battery fire. Marines moved up to reinforce the defences. Warthog guns blazing away, grenades, screaming, the smell of blood and excrement, the smell of plasma. Michael was frozen in terror and lost control of his bowels as he continued aiming his rifle at the attackers, not noticing the ammo had run out. He was sobbing loudly.

Then something hard and fast hit the ground between the two sides. Dozens of blue man-sized pods. His heart skipped a beat as he looked at the color. It had to be elites. He clumsily ejected his magazine and slid another one in, nearly dropping it twice.

A pod opened revealing a tall humanoid figure in a full suit of blue armor. Its limbs looked to be about the size of those of a human, elbeit shaped like a dog's, while its chest was either incredibly bulky, or its armor was. The figure scanned them, then took a weapon from his capsule and leapt out. But no new death came at Michael. Instead it took aim at the -Covenant- and opened fire with a stream of green rounds that melted the flesh of whatever covenant they touched.

More pods began dropping down, the blue-armored soldiers emerging and opening fire upon the Covenant. Caught completely by surprise, the Covenant fell in droves, a multitude of differently colored rounds being unleashed. Grunts were turned into green sludge, or had their methane tanks explode as red incendiary rounds passed through. One of the new soldiers hefted a large black cannon that shot out an honest to god Black Hole that ripped through the advancing covenant line, shattering their advance.

One of the soldiers took an overcharge plasma bolt that seemed to explode just before it impacted the new arrival. A new weapon? No! It had hit some kind of barrier. The soldier collapsed, grasping at his plasma-scarred armor. It led out a shrill birdlike screech. The sound shook Michael out of his stupor. He got up and ran out of cover, sprinting towards the fallen soldier. He sought a handhold and began trying to drag it behind cover.

The bastard was heavy, and he could barely move it. Only for another of the new arrivals to lend him a hand and help him. No words were exchanged in the frantic firefight.

"Assist them, now!" Came a shout from the ONI facility as the marines saw their opportunity and sallied out, riding shotgun on the tank treads of a Grizzy tank. They advanced through the rubble strewn streets, fireteams advancing under the cover of each other. The alien who'd helped him drag his fallen comrade pushed him into cover and pulled something out, panic went through him for a second, only to see the alien was offering him a pistol. Michael snatched it and took aim at a sewer grate that suddenly opened, a skirmisher leaping out. His shot blew it in half.

"They're coming from below!" He yelled, grabbing the alien's arm and pointing at the grate. Without pause it pulled what had to be a grenade from his belt and threw it down the hole. He saw a squad of marines come to the same conclusion and fire their flamethrower down into another sewer grate. "Cook you alien bastards!" the operator screamed.

Squads of the new arrivals were forming up and advancing through the ruined storefronts and homes, to the sounds of explosions, plasma splashes, and screaming. The arrivals weaponry shot holes through walls, while plasmafire lit up the night. It was so bright it almost felt like day. The Grizzly tank was laying down a withering stream of fire, when an Elite suddenly leapt from a rooftop onto the tank, cutting the barrel in half with his energy sword, then cutting open the hatch and throwing a plasma grenade inside. The Marines opened fire at the attacker, only for it to vanish into thin air. "Spec ops!" A marine shouted.

The Elites were here.

The distinctive sound of plasma rifles and fuel rod guns began lighting up the night, while energy sword began lighting up as the Elites made their play. The Arrivals weapons washed across the Elite's shields to Michael's horror. The alien who'd given him the pistol did something to his rifle, causing a blue glow to appear around it. He took aim at the elites, blue rounds impacting shields, followed by the satisfying pop of a shield overload. The moment the shields popped, the color of the projectiles changed, turning into white, red, or green bolts that frozen, melted, or liquified whatever flesh they hit.

Michael could see the elites taking heavy losses as they advanced, but their weapons took a heavy toll on both the marines and the their unexpected reinforcements. Flesh melted, blood boiled, armor melted. And then the Elites were upon them, throwing grenades and lighting energy swords. Michael felt something hot on his left side, but continued firing his newly acquired weapon. Blowing a hole in the chest of an Elite which had just cut three soldiers apart in seconds.

The fighting devolved in a frantic melee as the streets turned into a close ranged brawl of energy blades, and weird red blades that the arrivals seemed to conjure out of their armor. They attacked in groups. Close range blasts of what had to be shotguns, and weird red energy blades that the arrivals pulled out occasionally. Blood and limbs went flying, walls were blasted out of buildings, and a bolt of wraith plasma took out a score of soldiers. As buildings collapsed in the fighting, they formed cover that both sides fought over tooth and nail.

Michael's pistol ran out, and he looked up into the sky. He could see fast moving pinpricks in the sky, and gunships passing overhead. Clashing with Covenant fighters and dropships. He couldn't make out how the battle was going. Far in the distance he could see the massive Covenant Assault Carrier hovering ominously on the other side of Williamtown, somewhere in the open plains. It was glassing something. He could see large blasts appearing on top of the ship, hitting its shields from orbit, although he could not see where the shots were coming from. It was a constant rain of fire that lit up the shields of the ship. Large wings of new alien fighters flew overhead, delivering their payloads on unseen targets, followed by larger ships which flew towards where the fighters had launched their payloads. _They're clearing landing zones. _He realized. This was a large invasion.

The fighting was beginning to die down, the final Elite only dying when a Marine unloaded a shotgun into its chest at point blank until it ran out, and one of the new arrivals had stabbed it multiple types with the fallen blade of another Elite. The remaining elites were quickly finished off by the Marines, while the new arrivals began stripping the fallen covenant of equipment, and dragging a couple of the still moving bodies with them. Nobody spoke up about this, too shocked by what had just happened.

An awkward quiet descended across the battlefield as the humans and the aliens looked at each other. Both sides set to gathering their dead, taking their weapons and equipment, and preparing for the next fight. One of the aliens, approached and activated some kind of holographic gauntlet. He pressed a button, playing a message.

"We are the Turian Hierarchy, protectors of galactic peace. We've come to aid you in your fight against the Covenant. Bring me to the leader of this fortress so we can plan our next move." There was a solemn silence amongst the Marines present, and then a sigh or relief. One of the soldiers took the Turian commander and led him inside the base. Michael smiled. Then noticed the Medic looking at him in horror and running at him with a Medical kit. He looked down and saw that his left arm and shoulder had been shot off. As the adrenaline wore out, everything went dark, the last thing he saw being the Turian from before catching him.


	2. Chapter 2

For months the Citadel had been searching every relay into the Orion Arm to find a clue as to what was destroying worlds and wiping out the so-called Humans. Destroyed habitats, ruined worlds, mass graves of milllions of dead civilians, killed in vast subterranean bunkers. They'd been able to infer the existence of energy weapons, as well as some form of non-eezo based FTL. Normally this would have excited him, but now he could only worry about this being used against them.

When scout ships had reported a Covenant warship attacking a human world, the response had been simple. One of the Turian battlegroups patrolling the Orion arm in force had immediately gone to assist the human world.

Admiral Karandis observed the tactical situation from his station about the Dreadnought _Titan's wrath._. He was nervous. This was the first clash between he Turians and this "Covenant", and he'd not been prepared for just how big the enemy ships were. They were enormous! A Dreadnought two kilometers long, two one kilometer long, and twenty frigate-sized ships, more than two-hundred meters long each. He had three Turian dreadnoughts, thirty cruisers split up in groups of six, and sixty frigates split up in packs of six each. They had numerical superiority, but that did not put him at ease.

The Covenant ships had not detected their approach initially, and had lost several of their smaller ships to a wave of Fighters and drones launched at close range by the dreadnoughts and cruiser. Alas, they had not taken out one of the larger ships, but they had detonated disruptor torpedoes deep inside several Covenant ships. The fighters had then returned to re-arm and reload.

He had expressed worries about the enemy plasma projectile and laser cannons, but put them to the back of his mind. His ships had been briefed to the best of his ability, They had doubled the layers of ablative armor, and the Kinetic barriers had been modified to "catch" incoming plasma projectiles and try to slap them aside. The heat would do horrific damage to ships, but it was better than instant destruction. The enemy ships had an unknown form of FTL, but their sublight speeds were much lower than his own. If he didn't get arrogant, he should be able to just stay out of range and continue hitting the enemy from long range.

After the surprise attack, the Covenant ships besides the super-dreadnought had broken off from the planet and moved to engage his own ships, firing plasma projectiles and their laser turrets at his ships. The Ablative armor on his ships began fizzling and boiling, but held at such extreme ranges. The modified barriers helped, but one cruiser miscalculated the "slap" and was instantly atomized by the plasma impact.

As this happened, the transport ships of his fleet had secretly gone into FTL from behind the star, travelled to the system's oort cloud, and then with a series of smaller FTL hops appeared on the other side of the human world from the Covenant fleet. A force of eleven-thousand Turian troops and armored support were currently landing on the planet, setting up evac zones in isolated cities, while the majority went to the human capital to engage the Covenant there. There was some concern from the humans, even attacks on the Turians, but this quickly stopped when the Turians began attacking the Covenant attackers. The evacuation ships would take them to a safe world in Citadel Space, until another human world could be found. It was good work. The kind of thing someone signed up for in the hopes of doing just that. Rescuing innocents from invaders. It reminded him of the Rebellions in a way.

The Turian Dreadnoughts were currently positioned behind one of the system's many planets, using gravity to slingshot their shots at the Covenant ships, while most of the Frigates and Cruisers were flying massive circles around the Covenant ships, moving laterally and aiming their main guns at the enemy fleet and concentrating all their fire upon a single Covenant ship at a time. They'd fire until the enemy energy projectiles began to close in, whereupon the ships fired up their FTL drives to jump to the other side of the Covenant fleet, this time at maximum range again, where they'd accelerate again, and continue firing laterally.

He had ordered ten cruisers and one dreadnought, _The Will of Taetrus_ not to open fire. Yet, and stay hidden behind the sun as a strategic reserve., with another two packs of frigates waiting behind one of the gas giants. They could be alerted to strike by sending FTL probes to jump to them and give them the order to strike.

The Covenant ships were moving in one group, the larger ships using their overlapping shields to cover the smaller ships after four had been taken out by weight of fire from Turian ships. _Clever._ Karandis thought to himself. The enemy admiral was protecting the ships which he could take out with relative ease, by using the shields of the larger ships to block them, trusting that they would have a chance to continue recovering. It had taken his technicians some time, but they now believed they could use measure the strength of the Covenant shields by analysing the deflection or destruction of their projectiles.

"Split the cruiser force and have them keep both enemy ships under fire at all times, we can't allow their shields time to recharge. Concentrate the firepower of the dreadnoughts and frigates on the the dreadnought closest to us." He ordered. He put his hand together as minutes ticked by, and the fighting continued like it had before. The Covenant tried to close in. The Turians were slowly losing ships as they had to withdraw due to overheating, while the shields of the enemy ships kept dropping under continuous fire. He was waiting for an opportunity.

The Covenant fleet suddenly broke apart, and split up in all directions, the frigates breaking from their protective shields and heading towards his cruisers. He could see the plan. Engage his cruisers in a knife-fight with their frigates, allowing the dreadnoughts to come in close and finish the job. Suddenly an officer spoke up. They'd split the frigattes around equally, with one Covenant dreadnought heading for each of his own dreadnoughts. "Primary target shield energy readings are starting to become more erratic." He grit his fangs. Without the frigates, the dreadnought was vulnerable to his plan.

"Deploy _Titan's wrath and the Palavan Sunshine _at maximum range beneath the plane of the enemy dreadnought, then signal the strategic cruiser reserve to deploy in broadsides at knife-fight ranges and fire everything they have!" They'd take the Sunshine away from the dreadnought that targeted it, then concentrate fire upon the weaker of the two ships. With one dreadnought gone, they could concentrate their fire upon the last dreadnought, while he deployed his frigate reserve to ambush and surround the Covenant frigates.

As the order went out tactical VI's calculated exact timings for each ship to make their move. Then, upon completion, the order went out and ten seconds passed to account for light-lag, and then the plan jumped into motion. His helmsman took him and his ship into a series of quick FTL jumps to get into position, the moment they emerged, they opened fire upon the underside of the enemy dreadnought, ten cruisers appearing at the same time and firing their broadsides. All fighters launched at the same time, going in for the kill. Then, in a crackle of blue light, the shield around the enemy dreadnought exploded.

The outer hull of the Covenant dreadnought rippled and tore as mass accelerate rounds impacted and expanded inside of the enemy hull, followed by streams of disruptor torpedoes from the fighters passing right through the ship's hull. Karandis smiled at the devastation. Then the enemy's turrets began to glow.

In seconds, ten cruisers were turned into slag, and a stream of plasma projectiles flew out towards the two dreadnoughts. "Evasive maneuvers!" He yelled.

The helmsman complied, angling the nose of the dreadnought so it could pass by the Covenant ship, and jump to FTL. His ship's short FTL hop barely managed to avoid the enemy plasma projectiles, but the _Sunshine_ was hit and the front half of the ship was slagged before the FTL drive kicked in. It went out of FTL, completely wrecked. The targeted dreadnought detonated as its plasma core went off. Karandis grit his teeth. His plan had cost him a thousand turians and ten cruisers. If he'd had just a bit more firepower, he might have been able to cripple the ship before it fired back.

The Covenant frigates had began laying into his cruisers and frigates, while the last dreadnought began laying into them with its plasma and laser weaponry as his ships were fighting the frigates at close range. Another seven cruisers and fifteen frigates were destroyed in a close range clash, but half the covenant frigates were taken out when the commander of the cruiser flotilla made a high-G turn and suddenly presented a full broadside at the oncoming covenant ships. Firing on one ship at a time until it died, then switching to the next. Five cruisers FTL-jumped out of the fight as they overheated too much and had to flee. "Break off from the dreadnought , Regroup at the gas giant, do -not- let it get close." He ordered. "Engage at long range only!". They'd have to win this battle slow and steadily. No more gambles.

As his ships complied, he saw that the Covenant ships were breaking off too, the fighting was turning back into an artillery duel, while the Covenant ships were moving to the system's gas giant, he thought they might try to fight with their backs to the planet. He ordered an FTL probe to inform his frigates to stay on the other side of the gas giant. He might be able to ambush the Covenant with them, and he still had his last dreadnought hidden behind the sun.

He'd made his peace with this war being a brutal one, but the enemy ships were quite something. The Hierarchy was currently gearing up to a war footing, taking dreadnoughts out of mothballing, and laying down -ten- more, with plans for the construction of massed dreadnought-construction yards, new anti-plasma barrier defenses, and improved ablative defences. He just hoped it was enough.

"Send a frigate back to Citadel space with all our sensor logs" He ordered. "The Hierarchy needs all our combat logs. We need more dreadnoughts, and fast."

As the two fleets began settling into their long-ranged duels, the next phase of the battle could begin. Neither fleet could approach the planet without the other running interference, so it was down to the forces on the ground to decide this battle. They'd brought enough disruptor, nuclear, and anti-matter missile batteries to hopefully be able to take out the super-dreadnought. If need be, he'd have to order the ruined dreadnought to ram it from orbit, as its engines still worked. Perhaps that could destroy it.

He asked for the spirits to help General Pallonis down on the planet's surface.


	3. Chapter 3

**Five Months before the battle of New Ghent**

It started promising. Just two months ago, after years of travel, exploration ships had managed to find the partner of a dormant mass relay leading into the, leading into the Orion arm of the galaxy, a so far unexplored part of the galaxy. Shortly after arriving within the uncharted zone, they found a world, just four light-years from the Relay that had been turned into glass. It wasn't the first world the Council had discovered which had been destroyed by orbital bombardment, but this one was different.

This one had been destroyed just decades earlier. Broken dreadnought-sized ships, and beyond, had been found adrift in the void throughout he system, still leaking radiation. Upon closer inspection of the ship, the explorers had found it to be filled with corpses. Thousands of bodies, as far as the eye could see, crammed together tightly inside of a massive cargo hold. They'd died where they fell, clutching throats and the vacuum claimed them. The final body count had revealed there to be fifty thousand two hundred and nineteen bodies in the ship. The computer systems had been damaged, but they had managed to reconstruct its data core.

This repeated in neighboring systems, orbital habitats destroyed, refugee ships hunted down. A Ruthless interstellar genocide. All of this had been taking place within the last two decades going by radiological and orbital decay. The cycle repeated itself in a few systems in range of the relay. Then, twenty light years from the first world that had been destroyed, they found another.

This world had only been bombarded partially, a large southern continent had been turned into glass, while the others were relatively untouched besides pinpoint orbital strikes. It was in this world that the STG had a lucky break..

An isolated community on the more unscathed northern continent had survived the scouring of the world, although its people were nowhere to be found. During their examinations, the STG team had discovered a small school and it still had some educational materials left. Meant to help teach children, the STG had finally been able to translate the mathematics and language of the so-called "humans". WIth this, they could finally begin deciphering the data they had retrieved.

"From: Captain Donnager of the UNSC Cruiser _Are you feeling lucky?_  
Sent: April 9th 2527

Covenant ships are approaching New Warsaw. Remnants of the battlegroup are holding the line. Move to secondary spacepart to aid in immediate evacuation."

The news had struck a nerve with the the higher echelons of Citadel government. Someone was out there destroying a whole civilization, and committing genocide against a race much more technologically inferior than themselves. All three council races preparing contingencies and making preparations for what was to come, with the burden of coordinating these actions falling to the Citadel Council.

The Council chamber was quite like usual, ever since the word from beyond the Orion Relays had reached them. Tevos sat in front of Sparatus and next to Valern, inspecting the latest scouting reports. This was a small chamber, isolated from all outside noise, and was where the Council discussed unofficially when not in official meetings.

"Valern. Any news from the STG?"

The aged Salarian shook his head. He'd been with her in the briefing room almost every day since the first explorers had returned from the other side of the Relay. He'd even had his bed moved in. "Nearly all our STG assets have been deployed beyond Orion relay. But we have found scarcely more than burned worlds and destroyed ships and habitats. What technology remains is being taken to remote outposts for analysis." Tevos nodded.

Sparatus spoke up. "Our best scientists have been able to determine that whatever destroyed them were plasma and laser weapons of incredible yields. We're currently refitting Turian ships to counter these weapons the best way we can. It's a challenge, and we might need to reach into the private sector for eezo-mining grade heat shields."

He brought up a hologram of a Turian Cruiser on the central table. "We're improving the thermal protection on our ships, and modifying our kinetic barriers to attempt to shunt aside energy projectiles. Our efforts are… adequate, but a retrofit is not as effective as a dedicated ship." He changed the hologram to a large space station, half the size of the Citadel. It was bristling with guns and missile silos.

"We're also currently researching ways to improve our odds in the event we get attacked. Some of the Turian Engineering Corps have proposed that we construct large battle-stations, fitted with weapons too large to place upon any normal Citadel ships. We're bringing over some of the Asari working on the Tirii Supercollider and testing for viability, as well as buying Quarian information on their old Haratar-class stations. We're seeing if such a project is viable.."

Tevos nodded. The cost would be astronomical. "I'll talk to the Matriarchs of the Asari republics. We'll see about the possibility of raising new taxes to finance the construction, if the suggestion proves feasible."

Vallern spoke up, his omni-tool lighting up. "I just received news from Salarian science team." He brought up a helmet camera of a Salarian agent moving through what had to be a human vessel. The ship was filled with plasma scoring, and human bodies scattered all over the decks of the ship. Hundreds of them. The sight was revolting.

He scrolled forward until the agent entered a large room, where a large broken triangular device was located. It appeared to have been subjected to explosive demolitions.

"This ship was discovered broken above a Human world, and shows signs of what we've come to expect. Skeletons, plasma scoring on walls. However, our agents reported this device's peculiar radiation signature."

"Some sort of weapon?" Sparatus asked. "A radiation bomb?"

"Unsure. The radiation signature matches research done into high-energy physics at some Salarian research institutes, mostly research into higher dimensions. Perhaps it could be their power source? Or maybe even FTL via an alternate dimension? "

Tevos thought it over. Perhaps a dimensional power-tap? The concept had been theorized, and could perhaps explain the weapon yields, but she had trouble believing it. "I'll recommend Asari scientists look into these readings, as well as the STG. ."

"The knowledge of the existence of alternate dimensions does not allow access to said dimensions. We'll need luck, or a working device to discover how this works. In any case, the STG will happily accept asari assistance in our research. We have also found some undamaged datapads and logs which we've taken back for a further language analysis. We found what we believe to be a field manual for their soldiers, which mentions names for the enemy ground forces. I'll send copies to your station after this meeting. What's interesting to me, is that the ship's navigational data and computer cores had been wiped clean. Perhaps this race is trying to hide?"

Tevos nodded and brought up the second topic of the agenda. "What about the public? Has word leaked onto the Extranet yet?"

Valern shook his head. "Not yet. But rumors of a discovery beyond the Orion relay as well of an arms buildup are starting to spread. We don't know how long we'll be able to keep things hidden."

"Just do it as long as we can. We need to avoid a panic." Sparatus said, nodding in agreement with Tevos.

Tevos now took control of the holographic display, bringing up the framework of a spacecraft. "In better news, I've received word the Asari republics are setting up dedicated Dreadnought production facilities, allowing new ships to be installed with Silaris armor and modified Cyclonic barriers although the price will be… exorbitant. We'll be making some cuts to their capabilities. Crew comforts are minimal, and they can no long skim orbits. They're purely spacebound."

"Valern. Any news from your government?"

"We've sped up our planned fleet-expansion, and will be installing Ultraviolet GARDIAN lasers on all Salarian warships before the end of the year. The Joint Turian/Salarian Stealth ship development project shows promising results."

Tevos was counting the cost in her head as they discussed. The war preparations were expensive, not unfeasible for the Citadel, but still more than they'd devoted to their militaries in centuries. She was glad the Citadel had been at peace for so long, and therefore had a sizeable warchest to draw from.

"Sparatus, what about the Hierarchy?" She asked him, to which he responded as proudly as a Turian could. "The Primarch is prepared to draft the entire Turian race if it proves necessary. We've also begun breaking out the old planet-killers from the Rebellion. High yield fusion, and fission bombs." There was a pause. "We are also restarting researching the feasibility of antimatter warheads for planetary bombardment purposes."

"The Primarch has ordered that the first retrofitted ships will be deployed through the Orion relay soon to begin looking for Human colonies, or isolated Covenant ships. One fleet every week. We hope to find these "Humans" as soon as possible, and gather intelligence on the Covenant and their technology. We'll try to avoid confrontation, but if we find a world under assault the admirals have permission to engage so they can launch an evacuation. The remainder of the Turian fleet not tied up in peacekeeping will be stationed at the Relay."

Normally Tevos would have been angry at the prospect of the Turians engaging an unknown race, but the sights of the massacres painted a bleak picture of what this Covenant was like. They had to be ready, and forming an alliance with the humans could be vital in defeating the Covenant.

"We'll have a newly colonized world prepared to house human war refugees. They could give us vital intel on what is going on. Any news on their biology?"

Valern spoke up. "Analysis and dissection of bodies revealed Levo-Amino acids, with gravity and atmospheric preference roughly similar to most species." She could see Sparatus look relieved at the revelation. Dextro worlds were rare, and hoarded jealously by the Turians.

"We'll come back together at the next official meeting with everything we've talked about planned out. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"Agreed."

As Tevos walked out of the room, she thought back on how many new initiatives and research programmes they were throwing billions of credits at. Antimatter warheads, Citadel-sized defensive stations, Full fleet refits, research into alternate dimensions. She knew for sure that each of their races was hiding their own secret projects. Her own species was exploring creating a crops of gene-modded and augmented Asari "supercommandos", while the Salarians and Turians undoubtedly had their own secret projects.

She headed out to a private terminal. She had a few calls to make.


	4. Chapter 4

General Pallonis and his command staff stepped out of his dropship.

They'd set down inside the large complex that the Humans were using as their command and control post. It A large compound with thick walls, towers, and built in such a way each building could function as an individual fortress. He could see what he assumed to be the Barracks, mess hall, supply dumps, vehicle pool, vtol-pad, and a massive fortified building that he assumed to be their base.

As he and his command staff walked through the compound, the Human soldiers eyed him somewhat warily, but quickly returned back to their preparations. They were preparing sandbags, loading ammunition, patching both wounds and armor, and telling stories.

He didn't blame them for their xenophobia after what had happened, but it couldn't get in the way of what had to be done. This was the first "official" engagement between the Citadel and the Covenant, and it would reflect badly on the Hierarchy if they failed. He hoped his translation software wouldnt mess things up.

He'd read everything the STG had been able to gather. Family structures, a sense of authority in the military, and a high focus on attempted evacuations of civilians. The Humans struck him as an empathic species with how worlds had been found glassed, with its last defenders found defending what looked to be evacuation sites. A good way to die, he thought to himself.

He could see that the Turian Engineering corps was already hard at work fortifying the base; they were installing barrier generators, installing defensive emplacements, setting up Turian prefabs, and repairing the human ones. He smiled as he saw a Human holding a metal plate in place while the Turian welded it with his omni-tools. He took note of the ones at work and marked the better workers out for promotion.

All around him the Turian soldiers were in a flurry of movement. Dropships were not just landing here, but across the planet, from isolated communities to smaller cities not yet attacked by the Covenant. His soldiers were reporting across the battlenet of the slaughters they'd witnessed. The first evacuation ships were already underway.

The soldiers seemed eager for this fight. They had seen the briefings, the STG footage of the horrors of the Covenant. This would be a righteous war, one that would define a new generation of Turian heroes, and the soldiers here knew it.

There was some grumbling and the occasional posturing between these Humans and the Turians, mostly the humans not wanting to eat the Levo-Amino nutrient paste the Asari had provided for this expedition. Some of the more experiment humans were trying it though, with their comrades egging them on.

He passed by a freshly assembled hospital prefab where doctors were cutting Turians out of molten armor, and preparing to ship the wounded back out. Some were lucky, and merely treatments against the heat, before they were given new armor.

He was impressed by how stoic the Human Marines were. Their command structure had almost completely been dismantled, they were low on vehicles, running out of ammunition, and looked starving, but still they stood ready to fight. It reminded him of documentaries of the Krogan Rebellions, of Turian soldiers fighting on worlds that had been the victims of Asteroid strikes.

He put those thoughts aside and headed into the large building he'd been informed was the headquarters of the human resistance. He turned to his general staff. "Begin setting up my personal command post in the prefab, I will meet with the Human leaders and prepare our next course of action. They're scared, so I don't want to bring two dozen Turians into their headquarters."

A pair of humans in black suits let him in at the doorway, their faces what he assumed to be grim, but jovial. They let him and his guards inside.

The first thing Pallonis noticed were all the refugees, most of them children and the elderly. He passed through a door that opened before him, and entered a large dimly lit chamber with a massive holographic table at the center of it. There were signs of jury-rigged computers and equipment around the room, and there were humans sitting at portable computer stations that looked like they were transported as suitcase. At the table he could see two humans waiting for him. The first was what had to be a UNSC Marine Corps Major according to the STG briefing. It was an older middle-aged human with dark hair, grizzled features, and eyes that seemed to stare off into the distance. Next to him was what at first he'd thought was a Civilian, until he saw the badge on his tunic. If he'd read the STG briefings correctly, this had to be an ONI "spook". It was an unremarkable man with brown hair and beady eyes, but a strong jawline. He looked scrutinously at everyone and everything in the room.

The Major stood up and gave Pallonis a quick curt salute, which Pallonis returned.

"My name is General Adric Pallonis of the Turian Hierarchy. I am here to initiate contact with the United Earth Government by command of the Primarch, and assist you against the Covenant by whatever means possible."

The Major spoke up. "UNSC Marine Corps Major Leonard Ross, New Ghent Garrison. And this is Lieutenant Commander Rickard of the Office of Naval Intelligence. We wish we'd made contact with your species under better circumstances, but thank you in the name of the United Earth Government."

"Duly noted." Adric nodded, as the STG report had informed him was the correct response in this situation. "I shall be brief with you, formal introductions can come after we've gotten you off this world, or the Covenant invasion has been defeated." Pallonis took his omni-tool and uploaded an image onto the holographic projector, showing an overhead view of the battlefront.

"We are landing forces across your planet to prepare to evacuate your into Citadel Space. I will be stationing my Engineering corps and a small garrison here to aid you in the evacuation of the civilians, while we engage the Covenant give you time to withdraw. Do you still have transport ships, or will we need to provide them?"

Rickard leant forward, pressing a button on the holographic display. "The colonial administration hid a few freighters in the mountains to the south of the colony for this exact purpose. I don't know if we can trust you, I hope we can, but we're dead anyways unless you're trustworthy."

The Major sighed, and explained for the ONI agent. "The roads have been mined by the covenant, and our refugee convoys get hunted down by covenant airpower. My forces are spread too thin, I cant hold off the Covenant, and evacuate the civilians at the same time."

Pallonis nodded. This could make things difficult. "I'll deploy interdiction air-patrols and have shuttles put at your disposal for the evacuation." He activated his omni-tool and sent out the commands. "We'll be bringing in a shipment of Levo-Amino nutrient paste on the first available transport ship."

This seemed to put the two humans at unease, but the spook raised a wary eyebrow. "Why are you so eager to help us, or put yourself in harm's way for us?"

Pallonis didn't know what to say at first, to a Turian, his current actions were only natural. He tried to put it the best way he could. "We have known of your species for several months now, when our scouts began discovering the remnants of your worlds."

"Eventually we managed to piece together information from drifting freighters, partially wiped computers, and ruins on partially destroyed worlds. We have been trying to contact the UNSC for some time now. When I saw the Covenant invade this world, I immediately ordered an intervention to save both your people, attack the Covenant for their crimes, and to initiate contact with your species."

The ONI agent seemed unnerved at the mention of how the STG had put together information on the UNSC. "So this is a matter of religion? Or of Ethics? Don't take this the wrong way, I couldn't be more grateful, but I am confused by your eagerness to help a species not your own." It saddened Pallonis inside to see this kind of distrust upon good deeds. It felt wrong in light of his upbringing.

Pallonis went silent as he thought of the right words. "The Covenant go against everything the Turians stand for. Law. Order. Peace. They are a threat to all civilized races in the galaxy." He slammed his claw into his open palm. "Total war is the only acceptable response to their actions. It is our duty to our family, our state, and our galaxy to destroy their threat, now and forever. Does that satisfy your question?"

There were sympathetic nods, and even a few smiles around the room. The Major pressed some buttons on the Holographic table, turning it off. "I will put my more broken and disorganized forces to work, guarding the evacuation of the capital, and put my But that won't matter if the Covenant fleet returns to the planet."

Pallonis nodded. "As I speak, Admiral Karandis is leading our fleet in drawing off the Covenant in orbit, He has drawn most ships away from this planet, except for the flagship, which remains stationary above the surface." He used his omni-tool to reactivate the table, and changed the hologram to show an overview of the solar system.

"We have so far identified, A single super-dreadnought sized ship, two dreadnought-sized ships, and two packs of frigate-sized ships." He pointed at the designated markers. He could see that one of the Covenant Dreadnoughts had been taken down, although his fleet had started to take losses.

The Major observed the space battle in silence, while Rickard nodded. "Yes. A CCS-Class Battlecruiser, two SDC-class Corvettes, and eight DAS-class Stormcutters. They jumped directly into near-orbit but didn't immediately open fire. I believe its a safe guess they didn't know we were here, and instead arrived for something else."

Major Ross muttered. "Must be some fucking ruins again. Pardon my french." but shut up when Rickard gave him a look that immediately shut him up.

_Interesting, their military fears this "Office of Naval Intelligence" A secret police perhaps? He made a note to include this in the formal report to the STG._ He took his omni-tool and uploaded the new designations to the Turian battlenet. He put his concerns over these being "corvettes" out of his mind for now. He didn't know what a Corvette meant to humans, for all he knew, to them, it meant a dreadnought-sized ship.

He hoped so, at least.

The ONI agent spoke up again. "The Covenant has been known to wage ground wars when they've won the orbitals, but only if they want something on the surface."

The Major spoke up again, pointing at the hologram of the CCS-class Battlecruiser, and pointing at a torn part of the hull. "The Battlecruiser took damage during the initial assault, that purple beam is its gravity lift, its ferrying troops and supplies to the surface. Rickard, show him the Surveillance drone footage." The spook complied and changed the image to a camera view of the Battlecruiser hovering ominously, far outside the city limits, a bright blue beam connecting to the surface.

Pallonis saw several large large gashes on its hull, the surface seemed molten in places, and there were large craters in the hull. "Your work, I take it?"

The Major nodded. "We've been hiding nuclear missiles around the planet for when this day came. We launched them at close range and managed to drop the bastard's shields, then hit it with the mass-drivers we normally use to transport cargo into space. We didn't take it down, but its not bombarded us yet, which I hope means we disabled its glassing beam. We've also seens it shields behave erratically. Which makes us think we clipped its wings."

The Major continued. "We have plenty of nukes left, we used to export fissionable materials to the UNSC after all, but we don't have anything to deliver our payloads."

"Nuclear weapons are effective against these ships?" Pallonis asked, eager to know if they'd found a weakness. Pallonis would include that in his report, recommend that all Citadel ships begin carrying nuclear ordinance.

"Very." Rickard said. "They've been one of our most effective weapons since this war began. Covenant shields are susceptible to extreme heat, and hitting it in multiple places at the same time. It seems to drain them faster."

Pallonis slowly nodded, an idea forming in his mind. "I was hoping to evacuate as many people as I could, but I'm starting to think we might have an opportunity to try to capture that ship. I can send shuttles to board it."

"You want to attack a CCS-Battlecruiser -by ground-." The Major asked plainly, like he didn't believe him, which he probably did. "We've never boarded a Covenant ship successfully… as far as I know." He said, eyeing the ONI agent who did not respond to the provocation.

"Perhaps my engineers can create a delivery mechanism for your nuclear weapons? Perhaps placing them in empty shuttles and ramming the ship could work."

Rickard held up a hand. "I believe I have something better." He said, straightening up and putting his hands behind his back to improve his posture. "The Office of Naval intelligence has a Prowler in this system. They can deploy Shivas on the battlecruiser and drop its shields. We can then provide your forces with the locations of its shield emitters. Take those out, and we can board it.."

Pallonis nodded at him.

The Major looked at him lividly. "A Prowler! Since when has that thing been in his system!?"

"Major. The prospect of capturing a Covenant ship is worth losing one of the few Prowlers left this far into the outer colonies. Without that, it would have reported our destruction to the UNSC, and the loss of our supplies of Fissionable materials, and Titanium deposits."

Pallonis nodded at the logic. He'd heard of the Turian Hierarchy experimenting with their own cloaked ships. It seems the Humans had them already. Perhaps they could be convinced to share this technology?

Pallonis spoke up before the conversation between the two humans escalated. Tensions were running high, but they seemed fueled by hunger, dehydration, and stress. "The armor of my men is rated for brief deployment in radiological environments. We can wait outside the blast radius and attack the moment the heat wave has died down. Then I will order an aerial assault on the vessel, while my forces and what remains of the UNSC armored forces can attack the main Covenant army on the ground and push on to the Gravity Lift. Possibly even use it to supplement our boarding action."

"But first we must take care of the Covenan Army in the city. Do you have any recommendations? You faced them before."

The Major looked at the holographic map. "I've got a few armored formations left, and enough artillery to count for something. The Covenant army is currently marching into this city to meet you, driven by heir fanatical faith in their gods, and their rabid desire to kill our civilians. We can use this against them."

Pallonis nodded satisfactorily. He liked these humans. Resourceful, tenacious, and an undercurrent of vicious cunning. "Go on."

The Major began drawing on the holographic map. "It's a simple maneuver, but effective. Your forces engage the Covenant inside the city and engage them to prevent them from pulling out. Meanwhile my armored forces will move around the city from the east, while your armored forces move around the right. Then we meet up and encircle the city."

"Their forces from the Battlecruiser will attempt to break the encirclement, while the forces inside the city not engaged with the Turians will try to break out. Our armor will be attacked on both sides. We'd still need to clear the city block by block."

"We'll just nuke the heaviest centers of resistance. I can have some of my troops deploy tactical nuclear warheads in the sewers, and set them off beneath their forces."

Pallonis couldn't hide his surprise at how casually the Human talked about deploying weapons of mass destruction on his own homes. "You'd deploy nuclear ordinance upon your own homes?"

"Won't be the first time we've had to do that." The Major said somberly.

Pallonis didnt know what to say, and put that aside for now. "I see... Well, that makes it easier for us as well, we dont need to worry about destroying your homes. We'll keep the nuclear deployment a secret until the last possible moment. I assume they are at least somewhat "clean" nuclear weapons?" The humans werent a part of Citadel Space. The Turians would -technically- not be breaking the Citadel Conventions if they werent the ones setting nukes off.

The major nodded. "Clean enough, especially when deployed underground."

Rickard spoke up. "I'll have the Prowler move in to strike for when the opportunity presents itself. Give the signal, and we'll do douse the Cruiser in Oppenheimer's light."

Pallonis nodded. "I'll have one of my men provide you with Omni-Tools. Hand them out to your commanders. We can use them to remain in contact and coordinate the armored offensive. Our communication codes are in it." He sent a command over his omni-tool to the Commander of the Turian Engineering Corps. "I'll have my engineers give your officers a crash course in using them."

The Major nodded. "Good. God help us, we might actually win a battle for once."


	5. Chapter 5

Gedrus examined his Phaeston rifle one last time before the attack began. His ammo block was fresh, his omni-tool was up to date, his barrier setting were configured for anti-plasma duty, his ablative armor coating had been enhanced. Disruptor? check. Armor-piercing? Check. Rad-rounds? Check. Cryo? Check. Incendiary? Check. He'd counted his grenades, and checked every function on his omni-tool. After the "Elites" had cut into them with their Swords, Omni-Blade programs were quickly distributed to all Turian soldiers. His Armax Arsenal Avalanche shotgun was ready. He'd had to get a replacement pistol after he gave his previous one to a human.

He climbed into the C77 Tyrus IFV that his squad had been assigned to. He hadn't bothered to get to know his new Squad members yet. Not until their first battle was over. Nearly his entire previous squad had been killed or incapacitated by the Covenant during their orbital drop.

Most of them weren't going to make it out of this battle alive, but none of them complained. This was their duty to their people. Victory would be won in Turian blood, as it always was. The devastation around them made it clear to them that the Covenant had to be stopped, at any cost. He'd put his affairs in order before mustering out. He was prepared to die for the Hierarchy. "Die for the cause." As the anthem went.

The squad leader, Sergeant Nialla, stood up inside the C77, her smaller frame probably making the trip a lot more comfortable than his. She activated her omni-tool and began transmitting a message from General Pallonis.

"Soldiers of the Hierarchy! I expect all of you to serve with dignity and valor as we bring the fight to the Covenant. "New Ghent" may not be our home, but it is in our galaxy, and therefore its the duty of the Hierarchy to defend it. Our task is to break the Covenant army on the surface of this world, and drive them into the abyss they crawled out of. Be prepared for the deployment of high energy burst weaponry."

There were mutterings in the IFV about using atomics on a Garden World, but nobody spoke up. They trusted the general.

"This will be an urban war, and a bloody one at that. The first wave will be honored for their sacrifice. Die for the cause."

Gedrus inwardly wished the General was better at speeches. But it worked.

Nialla spoke up. "Deployment in one minute. I've just received our orders. We are to engage in standard building-clearing operations against the Covenant and drive them from this city. Expect heavy resistance and air support. The flyboys are flying interdiction and close air support missions, while our artillery batteries are ready to fire on command." the warning lights went red. It was time to deploy. "VI drone scans will provide you with a 3d map of the fighting area. If we can't take a building due to resistance, call in a missile strike. If that doesn't work, we take it the old fashioned way"

"Incoming mortar!" The driver yelled. The IFV swerved to the side so fast they were nearly thrown out of their seat. The mass accelerator cannon and missile-racks atop the vehicle opened fire.

"Deploy, deploy!" The ramps dropped and they charged out. Immediately they came under fire from spikes of green energy that took out Arturis's skull the moment he stepped out of the Tyrus.

His fellow soldiers ignored him, they'd seen his lifesigns flatline.

Gedrus get into position behind the wreck of a human vehicle, laying down suppressive fire at the window the shots came from. With the window suppressed, his squad could move up.

Tollara prepared their squad's rocket launcher and fired it at the side of the building, bringing it down in a thunderous explosion. With the threat dealt with, Gedrus advanced to a HUD marker designated by Nialla. Grunts began popping out of cover in ruined storefronts, firing their plasma pistols and those weird purple crystals. He had a volley of crystals bounce of his barrier,, and a plasma bolt grace his armor. He and his squad opened fire immediately, punching through the flimsy wood used as cover. Upon further examination, it looked to be some kind of diner, or restauarant. Covenant snipers were firing from the building, and laying down suppressive fire with heavy plasma turrets that shredded an advancing Turian fireteam in seconds.

The city was lighting up in the early gloom of morning, plasma and mass accelerators flying overhead, Covenant dropships and Turian shuttles placing forces at strategic locations, while both armies forces advanced through the city.

"Enemy strongpoint. Designating!" Nialla yelled, and a marker appeared over their hud, designating it as danger close. Seconds later, a missile shot out of their Tyruss's missile racks and wreathed the building in flames. Burning Covenant troops ran out, and were gunned down mercilessly by the UNSC.

The Tyrus moved up behind their squad as they advanced, shooting any survivors that popped up out of the ruined building. The city was filled with Turian infantry formations, each of them moving as a team from building to building, clearing those in their path. IFF signifiers were sent back and forth, while communication passed between squad leaders. Drones mounting combat VI's flew overhead to map the enemy positions and update the real-time maps each Turian soldier had access to.

Streams of missiles flew overhead from the Turian lines, raining throughout the city, hitting tanks, troop clusters, and any buildings offering too much resistance to be cleared easily. The distinct sound of heavy shells hitting the ground rang in the distance. He didnt recall the Turians bringing barreled artillery, so he assumed it to be human.

As Gedrus was covering behind a ruined Covenant… weapon storage crate, charging station? He didn't know what they were, but they were large purple cylinders filled with Covenant weapons. He marked them on the tactical map for retrieval. They continued to advance, going from room to room in search of Covenant forces.

"Ambush!" Tollara yelled and fired a missile at a wall. The wall exploded in an explosion of concrete, and the gore of the enemies hiding behind it. His fireteam took up positions and began laying down covering fire as they prepared to cross a street. The other fireteam advanced, spriting to the other side.

Suddenly a beam of white energy punched through Gellonis's chest, killing him instantly.

The Covenant resistance was intensifying. He could see Elites leading Grunts out into the carnage of the street battles, catching the Turian's attentions while Jackal sniper fire intensified from all directions. His squad was pinned down behind rubble while their IFV opened fire on a squad of Elites that were advancing on their position. Its armor had seen better days, and its coaxial and missile racks had melted to non-existence.

"Damn humans build too sturdily!" Tollara yelled angrily as her missile failed to take out the side of a building she'd shot at. A burst of plasma hit her and Terrolis in the side. Terrolis fell into cover, his armor smoking and melting around the top of his chest armor, while Tollara had taken a round to her leg.

"Outer layer held." Terrolis confirmed across the squad channel.

"Plasma took off my leg, Tollara said in the squad channel." Gedrus moved over to see if he could provide first aid. The plasma had passed through the barrier, hit her kneecap, and melted through her knee. Only a small bit of the armor that remained stopped the whole limb from falling off.

Plasma began raining from the air. Huge bolts of blue plasma that carved melted through buildings, and made the Turians pay a murderous price for their advance. Whole squads pinned down by Covenant fire disappeared from the battlenet at a time. In response the Turians loosened their formation further, reducing some of the casualties taken.

Nialla came over to take a look. "Gedrus, carry her to the Tyrus and swap her with Nallex in the turret!" Tollara nodded and awkwardly hopped her way to the Tyrus with Gedrus supporting her. She quickly climbed into the turret, with Nallex helping her in, then grabbing his rifle and stepping out of the Tyrrus.

Then a barrage of green bolts hit the Tyrrus and ripped through the side, exploded inside, and killed Nallex, the driver, and Tollara instantly. There wasn't even enough left to bury. He picked up the Rocket launcher she'd dropped, and its ammunition. Two shots left. He'd use them sparringly.

Gedrus did not let his anger cloud his judgement. He whirled around and took aim at the advancing covenant. Laying down a stream of Incendiary rounds into the oncoming grunts, while Nialla gunned down the Elite who'd destroyed the Tyruss using disruptor rounds to break down the shields. The moment the shields of the Elite failed, Gedrus switched his fire and hit his chest with a burst of Rad-rounds. The Elite roared in pain and fell down.

Small fast-moving covenant fighters began to fly across the streets, strafing them with plasma bolts and some kind of explosive green plasma bombs.

"Get to cover!" Someone yelled, and fired his rocket-launcher at it. As he did so, the remaining Tyruss's began shooting them out of the air with their own missiles. Quickly learning of their mistake, the small fighters began to shoot the Tyruss's. One took a hit by a green bolt and looked as if it had melted in half.

Nialla looked ready to give the order to retreat, when another squad of Turians approached. Their armored covered in minor plasma burns, with one Turian having a vicious looking scar on his head which had blinded one eye.

The other lifesigns of his squad were quickly going down from intense Covenant sniper fire. He mourned each loss, but did not let them get in the way of his duty. They were in this to the end.

There was no opportunity to pull back squads, instead squad leaders and the battlenet automatically formed fractured groups of soldiers back up into full squads, as the Turian advance continued. They were taking losses, but they were still winning this. He looked up to see the Turian air-interdiction patrols begin hunting down the small Covenant fighters.

It was a glorious thing. Streams of missiles flying overhead, or curving down to hit targets on the ground.

He could see three Tyruss MBT's racing across a main road, firing their cannons and missiles as fast as they could. One being hit by four homing orbs of plasma that melted off half its armor and showed the internals. He could see the Turian driver pull out his service pistol and begin firing through the hole, until a green bolt hit him in the head.

The newly arrived soldiers took cover behind the ruined Tyruss and joined their two squad channels together with a single omni-tool command. "Our squad leader is dead. Elite cut him in half and killed half of us with grenades before we took it down."

Nialla nodded, then turned to look at a large reinforced skyscraped out of which they could see heavy Covenant fire. Those deadly green beams. _Command needs that skyscraper cleared. We're going up the service stairs, while fifth platoon airdrops on its roof, and ninth platoon assaults the front gates. We'll be trying to clear it with airstrikes through the open windows, but limited only. Commands wants that building secured for our own snipers. _The newly reformed squad quickly advanced through the rubble and towards a small side entrance. They switched to their shotguns and loaded Disruptor rounds. This was going to get nasty. He quickly checked if his omni-blade still functioned. It did.

Gedrus still hadn't read the names of his new squadmates. He decided he could make friends with the ones who survived.

"Terralis. Take the lead." Niadra commanded. He complied and threw a grenade into the building, then charged inside, with Gedrus and a new soldier, Gallis, following closely behind. Terralis unloaded into the chest of a Jackal, only to be tackled by an Elite in white armor, and instantly dispatched with a headshot from a plasma rifle. Gedrus and Gallis opened fire, hitting the Elite's shields, but not breaking them down before it shifted its aim and shot Galis in the throat with a precision burst. The last shot Gallis got off shattered the shields, and Gedrus's final shot before the heat-sink overloaded hit it in the chest. The Elite roared, his chest burning and bleeding, and took a handle from his belt. An unlit energy blade.

Acting on instinct, Gedrus activated his omni-blade and closed the distance quickly, stabbing the Elite in the chest. This did little to phase the Elite, as he threw him aside and into a wall, igniting the energy sword, and leaping forward, only for Nialla to hit him with a spread of cryo-ammo. The Elite froze mid-jump and broke in half at the waist where the shot had hit him when a second shot hit him. Its energy blade embedded in the wall so close to Gedrus's head, he could swear he felt the heat. He quickly took the blade from the Elite's hand and found the button to turn it off. It could be useful.

The Turians continued to advance, firing Shotguns and Phaestons as they moved up the stairs, and began clearing the building room by room, just like they had been trained. Incoming IFF-tags confirmed the presence of other Turian squads advancing through the building, the Turian battlenet's tactical VI's coordinating their advance.

On the fifth floor, Gedrus kicked open a door and saw a Jackal firing down into the streets below, a quick burst of fire from his rifle tore its head apart. He looked out the window and saw a determined Covenant advance heading through the street. Plasma-mortar tanks, full elite Squads, Jackal Phalanxes, and a -lot- of grunts.

Dropships were passing overhead. U shaped dropships with some kind of energy field in between the arms, and large bulbous dropships, both firing plasma-cannons on Turians he couldn't see from the window. A look on the live feed of the battle confirmed they were heading to stop an armored spearhead. He opened the digital copy UNSC field manual the STG had recovered with a few quick commands of his omni-tool, searching for their names.

"Enemy air-transport spotted. Spirits and Phantom dropships supporting a Covenant advance." He notified over the radio.

Nialla immediately responded. "Relayed. Air support moving to intercept. Take up positions at the windows and prepare to open fire. Deploy heavy weaponry."

He took Tollara's rocket and shot a rocket into the turret of a plasma-tank, blowing it off of the tank. He smiled at that.

One of the new squad members, a "Hadrian" according to the squad UI took aim with a M-490 Blackstorm Singularity projector and shot down the middle Phantom. The artificial singularity passing through the ship, crushing it like a can, then returning to normality in an explosion of radiation and heat. Then the squad opened fire, firing down into the advance, enacting a heavy toll.

The soldier next to Gedrus took a burst of plasma to his chest and stumbled, before a stream of pink needles embedded in the molten slag of the armor, and detonated, ripping open his chest and killing him instantly.

Gedrus readied a grenade when Nialla yelled. "Elites heading up the stairwell. Gedrus, Terrolis, block them!" He sent a confirmation ping across the squad network and moved into position at the top of the stairwell. He took most of his disc grenades and set it to remote detonation, and throw a few down the stairwell into strategic locations in the room.

There was nothing down the stairs, nothing he could see at least, when one of his mines gave off a proximity alert. He triggered the grenade immediately in an explosion of fire, revealing a shimmer that caught alight, upon seeing the revelation, he also detonated all the other grenades. The spec ops Elite roared as the explosions ripped him apart.

There was silence for a moment, then the sound of massed footsteps and muffled breathing. "Grunt mine-clearers." Gedrus quickly realized, regretting his decision to detonate the grenades early.

"Massed assault on the stairwell. Terrolis, rig it to blow." He told his comrade firmly. Terrolis took out his grenades and began setting them on the stairs. He had just enough time to set the final grenade when a Grunt appeared around a corner.

Gedrus shot it in the head, then switched to Incendiary and took aim down the corridor. He grit his teeth and shot the next who came around the corner. Then the next. Then another. He fired until the emergency venting activated. He cursed, and tried to override, but didn't have enough time.

The next grunt came around the corner with an overcharged pistol and shot Terrolis as he'd made the top of the stairs. The shot impacted the barrier, overloaded it, and cut the Turian in half. Gedrus dropped the Phaeston and switched to his Shotgun, the rad-rounds turning the grunt into green sludge.

One of the new squad members, Kellana, was dragging Terrolis's still alive upper-body away. The wound had cauterized. Perhaps they could cybernetically rebuild him? He hoped so. Terrolis was a good shot.

When the shotgun overheated, he ducked out of the line of sight, taking his fallen comrade's Phaeston and opening fire with it. Jackals were moving up now, advancing behind their energy shields, he switched to Disruptor. Those didnt go through the shields, but if they went past the shields, they could short them out. Sometimes.

A normal plasma bolt took him in the chest. Knocking him back into the wall, his armor's alarms went off. No catastrophic internal damage, but he'd lost a shield emitter. He activated his omni-tool and deployed a layer of rapidly hardening omni-gel onto damage.

The grenades Terrolis planted exploded, taking out the stairs.

"Sergeant. Stairs secured." He asked as he get back onto his feet. The rubble looked solid, and he went back into position at the window, firing suppressive fire into the Covenant positions.

A heavy Turian formation advanced on the street below the window, spearheaded by Tyruss MBT's. Their main cannons firing as fast as they could, while the coaxial Mass Accelerators blazed away at Covenant positions. Each of the tanks was pockmarked by plasma impacts, and their missile racks were almost uniformly spent. One didnt have a working coaxial anymore due to repeated plasma impacts warping the barrel.

One of the tank was cored by a stream of green energy, that then went to cut a second Tyruss in half. Scores of Turians died when the beams swept across them, burning them to piles of burnt slag and meat. The screams of the wounded and dying were loud enough to hear from several stories up.

"What the hell was that!?" He yelled, his usual calm broken by the curse.

Two… creatures in heavy armor were trudging through the street, some kind of heavy thick blue armor, with a shield in one arm, and a heavy cannon in the other. There was an ominous sound as the creatures charged up their weapons. Their appearance emboldened the Covenant, who continued their attack. Blue plasmabolts and those green projectiles reaping a heavy toll on the Turian soldiers as they tried to advance from cover to cover.

The remaining Turian MBT's turned their cannons to face the new threat, but not before a second volley was fired. Another two tanks died, as well as scores more men due to the beams being swept across their lines. Dozens upon dozens of Turians lay dead on the field, and the armored advance had been turned into slag. He saw a surviving Turian fire a singularity projector, at one of the creatures, which had the horrific effect of ripping its orange organs right out of its body.

Hadrian saw this and aimed his own weapon at the remaining creature and fires. He had just enough time to see it impact before a massive bolt of blue plasma incinterated him, three other soldiers, and melted a massive hole in the building that went several meters in.

The battlenet painted a bleak picture. Move Covenant forces were moving in across the city, moving forces to counter each Turian advance to counteract any encirclements. An army in Citadel space would have disengaged and looked for a better opportunity to attack, but the Covenant were fanatical. It was almost like they were in it for the fight itself. The fight and the soft targets the Turians were protecting. He grit his teeth and took the time to discharge the heat of his weapons. The fighting was only going to get heavier from here on out.


	6. Chapter 6

Major Leonard Ross looked at the overview of the battle. The Turian forces were doing an admirable job fighting the Covenant. If not for their plan, he believed they'd be able to take the city back on their own. But the cost would have been catastrophic.

His own UNSC forces had been nearly wiped out by the Covenant invasion, with only the forces he was calling in from surrounding regions still capable of effective combat. His scattered and broken regiments were currently evacuating every survivor they could to Turian evacuation points, while the Turians kept the Covenant busy in the city. Seraphs stopped their attack runs after the Turian began running air-interdiction patrols.

The twin armored spearheads were making excellent progress around the city. The remaining UNSC armored forces sweeping aside the Covenant patrols they encountered with the aid of Turian airpower. His Grizzly and Scorpion tanks advanced unimpeded as lightning-fast Turian fighters zoomed overhead, coring wraiths with their cannons, while Turian missiles launched from up to twenty kilometers behind the lines on the armored forces of both sides.

Their so-called "Jiriss" fighting vehicles were a sight to behold. Fast moving hovertanks that sped across the open field, firing missiles at incredible ranges at both Covenant air forces, as well as targets in the city. He'd have loved a few of those back on Harvest.

To avoid confusion, he had declined Turian mixing their ground forces together for now. The UNSC would hold the western flank by themselves. UNSC armored forces could somewhat reliably take on Covenant forces in a one on one engagement, but that rarely happened. The Covenant would just hit UNSC forces from orbit if they were starting to make actual progress.

But the air support was starting to thin. The Covenant were deploying heavy anti-aircraft guns whose beam weapons could instantly shoot Turian fighters out of the sky. A formation of these guns were being placed around the gravity lift north of the capital. Scouts were also reporting other Covenant structures and machines under construction.

The Covenant had a definite lack of airpower at this point in the battle, and were using their Seraph fighters sparingly, only engaging inside the defensive fields of fire of their anti-aircraft guns. From what few engagements he'd been able to get good views of, the Turian fighters while smaller, were much faster than the Covenant ones and could go circles around them. The only problem were the Seraphs, who'd require multiple Turian fighters cooperating to take them down.

He tried to imagine a confrontation with equal numbers of fighters on each side, and couldn't imagine it going as well for them as it did now. But in his mind, he started thinking of how he'd combine Longswords with these Turian fighters. He'd keep such a thing in mind for future cooperation.

He switched over to the Turian armored push. They had flown recon missions with their planes, marked out Covenant positions, and then fired a massive barrage of missiles that struck whatever could provide resistance against their advance. They avoided attacking Covenant armor directly, instead moving around them to get deep behind lines and strike the wraiths in their vulnerable read armor. It lacked the gravitas and raw power of UNSC armored tactics, but it worked.

They'd be meeting up sooner than they had anticipated at this rate. But he didn't want to count on it. The Covenant were still reeling from the surprise attacks.

The Turian general approached, observing the advance of his forces.

"I see the encirclement is almost complete. Are your demolitions troopers ready?" The Turian asked. The way the human spoke fluent English was still something that felt off. The way his mandibles moved unnerved the Major slightly. It reminded him a bit too much of the Elites. He forced a smile.

The Major nodded. "I've received word that the Marine teams have placed the bombs, and are defending them until they detonate."

The Turian paused. "They're sacrificing themselves." he nodded solemnly. "I will have their names written in the annals of the Thirteenth Turian Legion."

"It was their decision. They want to make sure the bombs go off." The Major looked at the tactical reports flooding in. "They're not the ones making the biggest sacrifice though. Your men are dying in droves."

The Turian merely nodded. "It is the duty of Turian soldiers to fight for the cause, and if necessary, die for it. My men will hold the line until the encirclement is complete, then stage a short withdrawal as we activate the weapons. Then with the Covenant distracted, they can mop up the remaining Covenant. While my ground forces focus on the city, our armored forces punch through to the gravity lift north of the city. If we secure it, I can take my last mechanized infantry forces not yet committed to the fight, and send them up the lift."

"Are your forces ready to strike?"

"The boarding shuttles are ready. I've got a detachment of the 26th Armiger Legion with me. The best troops in the Hierarchy. If anyone can take the cruiser, its them."

The Major nodded. "The Covenant might self-destruct. Whenever a Covenant ship has been under threat of boarding, they'll begin trying to scuttle the ship. I hope you have good combat engineers with you."

"The best." Pallonis said proudly.

"Things are different here than the last time I fought the Covenant. Whatever is on the planet. They want it badly. They are holding forces back to guard it." Something caught the Major's eye. " Look." He pointed at a large cluster of troops beneath the cruiser.

Pallonis leant over to take a look at them. "I was thinking about why this was the case. I had anticipated they'd send their forces to avoid an encirclement. But it seems I was wrong. They're leaving their forces in the city and consolidating their defences around the gravity lift. Their defences are strong for something built so quick. We'll need to combine our forces to assault that line." Pallonis tried to think of just how many losses he'd take assaulting a Covenant defensive line.

Rickard returned to the room, taking up his old position at the table, and not a centimeter off where he stood originally. He even took up the same posture as last time. Pallonis suppressed a grin at that.

"Prowler's moving into position. The Captain didn't like it, but he agreed on the plan. On our command, he'll drop the remaining shields of the Cruiser, then take out as many shield generators as he can. I took the liberty of ordering men to get our last mass-drivers online, and aim them at the shield generators. That should improve our odds."

Pallonis looked everything over one last time. Things were falling into place. The Fusion bombs beneath the city's streets were set to blow. The armored encirclement was almost complete. His boarding shuttles were ready to attack. And the space battle had turned into a stalemate for now. Now they just had to wait for the perfect opportunity.

"I no longer feeling so confident about our plan to nuke the cruiser at the same time as the city. There's just too many Covenant forces near the gravity lift. We'd need to engage those first before we can hit the Cruiser. And we can't do that until the city has been cleared of hostiles. Then we'll put our UNSC and Turian forces together for a full invasion of their landing site."

Leonard Ross nodded. "That might be for the best. If that's the case. I can relocate some garrison forces near to the evacuation route to take over escort duty, and prepare UNSC support for the final assault. I should be able to field eight hundred or so marines for the final assault."

"You should have seen us in our prime, turian. I think you'd have loved to see what our armies were like when we weren't always on the run." The Major said melancholically. "Doesn't mean we cant deliver the hurting though. These covvie bastards have infested our world for far too long."

Shipmaster Vado 'Mavamee looked at the reports coming in from the surface, of the mysterious new race that had so suddenly launched themselves into the conflict.

In truth, he didn't know what to think of them. Their spacecraft were small, but used expertly and with great skill. Their realspace FTL ability intrigued him. The tactical possibilities such a thing allowed were fascinating to consider. The limited sensor readings of their movement had clocked their speed at fifteen lightyears a day. A respectable speed, especially when used in a planetary system.

Their actions on the surface were the most intriguing however. They threw themselves almost fanatically at his forces.

No, that was the wrong word. Determined. They advanced with expert skill and training, always advancing with at least half their formations providing covering fire for the other half. Their doctrine seemingly being based around a mass deployment of long range artillery to weaken enemy positions, followed by infantry supported by air support and armored vehicles, with additional artillery called in to take out whatever Covenant strong points remained. He had to admit that the Stratagem was efficient. These were true warriors he was up against.

He was losing this battle. No doubt about it. The only question was if he could hold it for long enough to repair his Battlecruiser. The encirclement of his advance forces in the city was a predictable move.

Encircle, deploy heavy artillery, attack with all available forces. Simple, predictable, but still effective. He could have tried to break them out, but he trusted in the field commanders to hold long enough for him to establish defences. After that, he could move to reinforce the forces trapped in the city. With a full deployment of artillery and anti-air emplacements. His heart yearned for open war on the field, with large armies clashing in battles of maneuver. But he'd learned the art of defensive war during skirmishes against warlords on the frontier.

He'd put his troops to work setting up defences around the Gravity lift, and getting as much heavy equipment deployed from the Cruiser as he could. He'd wait until he had the largest possible force, and punch through to retake the city. Normally he would have been using dropships to provide the forces in the human city with at least a shield generator. But the amount of enemy fighters made such a move a certain suicide mission.

He'd sent a signal for reinforcements. But the closest Covenant fleet had answered they would only when they'd gathered reinforcements. The Cole human was operating in the vicinity with a large fleet, and the Fleetmaster refused to engage unless his fleet was at least half the size of the Human once.

He thought of these new aliens, trying to divine their purpose in the divine scheme of the cosmos. They fought with courage, honor, and determination, and were of great individual skill.

Their weapons were effective against his troops, even his sangheili. Their singularity weapons were also unlike anything he'd seen before.

Their armor was.. reasonable. It couldn't hold against sustained weapons fire, but it lasted longer than any human armor. That was for sure.

Vado'Mavamee just couldn't figure out what to think about these aliens. They seemed too proud and honorable to be working with the Humans, but they were. And going by scouting reports, were dying to evacuate them. If they hadn't been defending humans, he would have recomended they replace the Jiralhanae on the Covenant hierarchy. But now? He just couldn't decide. He put those thoughts aside until after the battle was won.

_Outsiders then?_ He thought. _Perhaps they saw us attacking, and intervened because of it? Their technology implies they know little of what the gods left behind. Perhaps the missionaries could convince them of their folly of siding with the Humans?_ He'd contact the Ministry of Conversion, and ask them to guide this race away from their folly.


	7. Chapter 7

Pallonis observed the latest status reports from the front.

Jirris IFV losses had been minimal due to deployment at extreme range. Their rockets had quickly proven an indispensable asset to the Turians at the front, their missiles proving capable of destroying points of Covenant resistance with continued strikes.

The Tyrus IFV and MBT's had been taking disproportionate losses. He marked that for study by the Hierarchy. He'd recommend the development of a new heavy, something that could more easily stand up to sustained plasma strikes. If contact with the full UNSC could be established, they'd try to bring some of their tank designers over. Ask them how they dealt with plasma.

Turian forces were beginning to break off from the siege of the city in small advance groups, to prepare for the push on the gravity lift. So far the Covenant did not show any sign they'd caught wind of these activities, and Pallonis was happy to keep it that way. The human forces were moving up as well, driving a mixture of military and captured human vehicles. Some even piling onto All-terrain-bikes.

Major Ross's omni-tool went off. He and the rest of the UNSC officers had been given simple versions of the devices to aid in communications, and had quickly grown accustomed to using the intuitive interface.

"Group two has been found by Covenant scouts. They won't hold for long" He said gravely. "They'll know our plans now."

"Can we try a remote detonation?"

"Unlikely. We've been cut off from regular UNSC supplies for so long, we've had to make some of these nukes locally. I don't trust them to hold up under fire like military-grade ordinance would. It would be easy for the Covenant to render them inoperative." Pallonis thought back to a story he'd heard as a child. Of a makeshift separatist fission bomb that couldn't explode after it fell and something delicate broke. The movie made about it had been quite amusing, if a bit too sympathetic towards the separatists. But those were Asari for you.

Pallonis looked at the tactical map. His troops were well outside the blast radius for the weapons the UNSC marines had planted. But his deployment for the attack on the gravity lifts were far from ready. The Covenant would have more time to prepare than he liked. But if he didn't and one nuke failed, they'd only have two more, and a city full of Covenant that still needed clearing. It might take longer than if they activated them now, kept a small force to clear survivors and take prisoners, and then sent everything they had to prepare for the final assault.

He'd made his decision. "Do it."

The Major nodded, and pressed the large red hologram on his omni-tool.

-

Gedrus pulled his omni-blade out of the Grunt, pushing the large bulky creature away from him. The thing had almost managed to strangle him when its weapon ran out and it charged in a suicidal frenzy. The creatures looked feeble at a distance, but up close, they were two-hundred and fifty pounds of crustacean anger compressed into a tiny ball.

He and what remained of his squad had been fighting for what felt like an eternity in this hellish urban war. Even if it had barely been more than an hour so far. The Covenant attacks were relentless, and they were quickly learning how the Turians were fighting. They were getting dangerously close to Turian lines whenever possible, making calling in fire support risk friendly fire.

His squad had left their position in the human buildings when the Covenant forces had been driven from the city block at a horrific cost of lives. Hundreds of Turians lay dead across the city. The historians of the Thirteenth Legion would have their hands full cataloguing every name.

His armor was covered in plasma burns and scrapes, and his suit had pumped him full of enough combat stimulants to keep him going. He'd never fought with these kinds of injuries before. He'd not lost any limbs, but even a grazing plasma bolt could melt armor and blister the skin beneath. But he would fight on. Their duty demanded it. He taked the omni-tool of a fallen soldier and used the omni-gel to begin fixing the damage to his armor.

"Prepare for high-energy burst weapon deployment." The warning went out across the battlenet. Gedrus had done the drills. But he'd never been on the surface of a planet subjected to the deployment of fusion weaponry. He quickly put his engrained training into practice.

Visors polarized, and suit seals were examined. Soldiers began applying omni-gel to holes in their armor and getting into cover. No radiological alert had gone out, which meant a pure fusion weapon.

The ground shook as three suns lit up in the distance. The shockwave levelled buildings and broke every remaining window in the city. The fireballs swallowed whole sections of the city and levelled others. The Covenant onslaught stopped for a moment, shaken by the surprise attack.

This moment of hesitation was exploited ruthlessly by the Turians, who resumed the attack. The Covenant lines, already flagging, broke with the final push. A new massive volley of Jirris-launched missiles rained down on the Covenant, taking out positions they could retreat into.

Gedrus was about to rejoin the assault, when Nialla spoke up. "New orders. We're to head to the plaza west of here and take a transport north towards our new rally points. Once we're inside our transport, chow down on your rations and check your equipment. We'll be reformed into new formations and prepared for deployments as reserves." They quickly got into marching order and began heading towards their rally point.

-

Vado'Mavamee yelled at his subordinates. "I want the anti-aircraft cannons operational as soon as possible. Set up any portable defenses we have, and prepare damage-support teams for if they hit the Cruiser as well!"

They had been caught by surprise by the sudden detonation of nuclear ordinance by the humans, but quickly snapped out of it. He'd received reports of humans in the sewers, but had written them off as rats avoiding the boot.

His forces in the city were as good as dead, reduced to a handful of squads which were being taken down one by one, with only a handful of Sangheili and Mgalekgolo boarding dropships and making it out without being shot down.

The only thing that might have saved what remained of his men was that he had not immediately thrown his forces into a breakout. If he'd done that, the enemy armored forces could have hit his advancing forces from all sides and crushed them, instead, they'd been put to work preparing defenses.

Shades in dug in emplacements, Type-38 Tyrants, Type-48 artillery turrets, and enough plasma turrets with overlapping fields of fire to make any advance a murderous slog. Recharge stations had been placed, weapons readied, rations handed out. He could hold the ship for at least a day. Maybe two. By that time, his reinforcements would arrive.

He'd stopped counting on the remnants of his fleet winning the battle in space. Both sides were staying away from the other, exchanging fire at extreme range and using solar bodies as cover. Neither had suffered a permanent ship-loss since the last engagement, both sitting outside the maximum firing range of the other, occasionally making a move towards the planet, then backing off when the other side began moving in to intercept.

If one side lost the void battle they'd lose the war on the ground, and they both knew it. This was no time to take risks. He respected that in his opponent. Striking hard and fast to cause maximum damage, then staying at a distance to wait for a good opportunity.

"Major. Status report." He commanded.

"The human and unknown forces are taking up positions that would seem to imply a planned assault. I've had the shield-generators reinforced in preparation of bombardment."

The shipmaster nodded at Vul 'Vratumee. The Major's star was on the ascent. A formidable fighter, and a keen intelligent mind. He'd undoubtedly become a fine commander.

The city really had seen better days. Most buildings had taken some kind of missile or plasma strikes during the fighting, and the bodies of the fallen from both sides lay out in the open. Not to mention the bodies of the humans who'd been slaughtered in the streets. Gedrus had not paid any attention to them as he'd fought his way through the city, but now without distractions, he could see just how many there were.

Most of the bodies had been so shot up by Covenant plasma weaponry, it was hard to get an accurate count. But just going by the amount of skulls, the slaughter was monumental. It reminded him of the stories of Turian worlds occupied by the Krogan during the rebellions. But at least the Krogan had ruled conquered peoples, not slaughtered them to the last child.

Turian support personnel were already arriving to begin the process of preparing the turian dead to be sent back to Palavan, while the Covenant dead were being stripped of equipment, and placed on mass burial pyres. He remembered the Energy Sword he'd taken, and reminded himself to bring it to the quartermaster after the battle. It had fizzled out after he'd taken it, but there had to be something worthwhile in it. He hoped the Salarians could make something of what they had discovered. Covenant energy shields could save a lot of turian lives.

He saw members of the Turian Engineering Corps surrounded by drones moving through the rubble, taking detailed measurements and scans of the battle damage, as well as collecting examples of Covenant technology. It would take some time to clear all the bodies from the city. But it would be done. The turian dead deserved nothing less.

He heard something moving near where he was. Some type of garbage dumpster. He made a "stop" hand signal, readied his shotgun, and moved over. The rest of the squad saw what he was doing, and did the same. A quick thermal scan confirmed there was a small shape inside of the container.

He opened the dumpster and looked inside, preparing himself for whatever was inside of it.

There was a human child inside. Small. Eyes wide with terror. So filthy that he couldn't make out what gender it was. He assumed by the short hair it was a male, but the face threw him off. The child was hyperventilating and looking at the Turian in barely contained horror.

"Stand down, everyone." He said. "Human survivor. A child."

Nialla took a look inside as well. "Gedrus, carry the child. We'll take him to the rally point and send him back with the wounded. "

Gedrus nodded and reached for the child, who was too stricken with fear to even move. He picked him up like he used to do with his own younger brother, resting on his right arm, left arm around his body to keep him secured.

He was about to move when he saw the flash of a camera. He turned to look at Nialla, her omni-tool activated and aimed at him.

"Congratulations, Private Gedrus. You're going to be on every extranet news site in the galaxy." Nialla said in the way only she could, that mix of heartfelt kindness, mixed with a wicked sense of schadenfreude, and an undertone of a miniscule amount of sadism.

Gedrus immediately realized that the picture was going to be sent to the Conflict Operations Messaging Legion on the first FTL tightbeam. Why wouldn't it be? It probably looked very inspiring. A Turian soldier carrying a human child away from a warzone.

"I hope I go up a citizenship-tier if that happens, Ma'am." He said snarkily, barely able to disguise how uncomfortable he felt about the prospect of being turned into some type of propaganda symbol. He was happy being a soldier, not sent around the galaxy on propaganda tours.

Nialla scoffed. "After today? I think we all deserve to go up a tier or two." They both laughed at that.


	8. Chapter 8

**Meanwhile, in Citadel Space.**

-

What the hell is happening beyond the Orion Relay?

"What happened beyond the Orion relay?"

That Is the great question being asked across Citadel space by trillions of people in light of a series of alarming developments throughout Citadel Space.

It was less than a year ago when Asari explorers, after almost a decade of travel, returned to Citadel space through the pairing of the Orion Relay. Their return was celebrated throughout Asari space as a great accomplishment of their species, and for the galactic community as a whole. The turian fleet in accordance with established protocols set a small guard at the Orion Relay and began letting small exploration ships and teams through the relay to begin mapping this new area of space.

Two weeks later, all civilian traffic through the relay was halted, and none of the research teams were allowed to return home, and the system the relay was in, was declared off-limits. Since then, the people of the galaxy have been in the dark as to what happened. But keen-eyed observers across the Extranet have been reporting that turian patrols that used to fill the skies over their worlds have been disappearing. As a thread on military watcher website , where this news was first compiled, shows, nearly three-quarters of turian patrol-fleets in Citadel Space are nowhere to be seen, with only Terminus patrol fleets remaining at normal strength.

So we have a mysterious blockaded relay, almost ten-thousand turian ships nowhere to be found, and no word from the Citadel Council. The options are frightening. What could scare the turians so much they sent ten-thousand ships to guard a single Relay? Have the Rachni returned? A rogue Synthetic state? Or something else?

I thank you for reading my piece. - Tellana Vasir  
_Tellana Vasir is a known anti-war Asari Extranet blogger, known for her centuries of experience keeping the people of the galaxy aware of corporate or government warmongering. Varren-lover._

-

Tevos closed the extranet page. It was just one of dozens of quasi-"professional" extranet blogs sent to her for review. She groaned as she saw just how many times the page had been shared across the Extranet.

Too many times.

She opened her omni-tool and sent a message.  
_  
"Valern. I need the STG to step up their disruption efforts. Stop search engines from referring to the articles I am linking. -Tevos."_

The message was short and informal, but so were almost all her messages these days.

As she sent the message, she read her message inbox. Fourty extra messages let through by her VI-filtering programmes, most of them requests for information from the looks of them. Her VI marked one of them as more important. Another message from Matriarch Benezia.  
_  
"I've not heard anything of my daughter for a month. You promised I'd get regular updates."_

Tevos groaned and rolled her eyes. She wrote a response.

_"Liara is fine. She's been deployed on an expedition on a partially glassed world for a while now. If she hasnt responded, its because of the limited bandwith of the comm buoys in the Orion Arm. More will be placed before the end of the month."_

Another of her VI's popped up to inform her of another relevent news article on the extranet that she should read. She brought it up. It was a short message.

"Council resolution 359-117 explained.

The Citadel Council has refused to answer why the Turian Primarch's request to enforce this controversial ruling was granted. This ruling allowed the Turian Hierarchy to co-opt Citadel research expeditions as rear-echelon support service in the event of "grave necessity", but the reasoning for this action has not been explained.

Rumors are rampant throughout citadel space, as to what prompted the Turians to need to expand their capacities as a navy. Military Watchers are speculating that Primarch Fedorian might be planning to increase Turian power a-" Tevos closed the site.

_"VI. Filter websites like the last one from my inbox."_

She opened the next relevant message. A message from the STG.

_"Matriarch Benezia has not attempted illicit contact with her daughter, or inform the media. She has however contacted Matriarch Aethyta as expected. See the following transcript._

_Audio Intercept. Packet #471844379-003004003-02"_

Tevos looked over the message. Nothing had been shared that could threaten public reveal. But it had been a breach of security.

She didnt know Liara was their daughter. This made things more complicated. She began sending a message to Aethyta.

_"To Matriarch Aethyta._

_I want to thank you for your input into war preparations for the Asari people, and would like to inform you that your request to deploy Asari commando troops beyond the Orion Relay has been approved of. When asked, Primarch Fedorian approved wholeheartedly of the initiative and asked for you personally to become his liaison to the asari military._

_How does Colonel Aethyta of the Asari Expeditionary Forces sound?_

_Come meet me in the Citadel tower and we can finalize our agreement. I have been searching for suitable commando troupes for our first deployment, and would like to hear your opinions on them. In person._

_From Tevos."_

She then compiled a message to Matriarch Benezia. She had to get her close, somewhere to keep an eye on her. She knew too much, so Tevos would need to keep her close, and include her to a sense.

_"To Matriarch Benezia._

_Benezia. I want to invite you to the Citadel to join the team planning for the future of the Asari race, and Citadel Space as a whole, in light of our recent finds beyond the Orion Relay. I hope to include you in future diplomatic missions, so as to make the most of your wisdom and experience in the matters of diplomacy. Please bring your commandos as well._

_From Tevos."_

She smiled to herself. Aethyta was an asset. A militant Matriarch Tevos could build the Asari Expeditionary force around, while Benezia could be safely sidelined by sending her beyond the Orion relay. She was quite content with herself and poured herself a glass of win. Then decided as there was nobody else in the room, she could just drink from the bottle directly. This was her wine after all, she wasn't going to share it with anybody.

She turned back to the economical reports she'd received from Valern and Sparatus.

Sparatus reported that the turians had laid down the hulls of forty new dreadnoughts, although only ten would be worked on at a time. It presented a humongous investment of resources, but say what you wanted, the turian Hierarchy always had a solid warchest at its disposal.

Turian recruitment and militarization was on track, and so far the true extent hadn't fully revealed itself. Good.

Valern reported that the salarian fleet had been refurbished and rebuilt with the best technology possible. While her personal agents reported that two new expeditionary fleets to assist the Turians in scouting the Orion Arm were being assembled, with just as many new hulls being laid down to keep the salarian fleet up to strength.

The reports of these new fleets were promising. They were laying down less new ships than the turians, but they looked to be able to match the turian ships qualitatively. Not an easy feat, as the turians were not known for holding back on their military spending.

So far, preparing the Asari for a potential conflict was proving to be a nightmare. Many individual republics, Matriarchs, and corporate interests all interesting to create an almost impossible to navigate web of alliances. She'd had to ask Valern for his best VI's just to help her in keeping track of the myriad negotiations going on.

She looked through the final important messages:

To her dismay, there was no news from the temple of Athame. She hoped that political goodwill she'd spent would bring her some rewards soon. Convincing the Matriarchs to increase their staff size had cost her several expensive favors.

Her omni-tool activated again. A single phrase was displayed on the screen.

"The Shadow Broker accepts your deal."

She breathed a sigh of relief.

-

Citadel Space  
Unknown Location.

Valern walked through the pristine halls of the STG science lab on Sur'Kesh he'd been invited to. He'd asked to be kept informed about any great discovered made by the STG, and had been delighted when asked to visit a deep space science lab to see their new discoveries.

He had been anesthetized and woken up inside the STG base. Not even he could freely travel to and from this site.

Secondary Orion Research Hub Six was a mobile space station used by the STG to research technologies retrieved from beyond the Orion Relay, and one of the STG's most closely guarded secrets. Even the name was meant to make people think there were multiple hubs. He didn't know if it worked, but it was worth the effort at the least.

Two Loki mechs led him through the hallway to the laboratory. Inside were dozens of Salarians working at a variety of large research posts and stations, working tirelessly on pieces of recovered technology.

"Prepare for test firing" Came a voice across the intercom. There was the distinct sound of a laser powering up, and discharging. Valern turned to look at the source of the noise. A firing range had been set up where a large device was firing bolts of orange plasma upon conveyor holding multiple thin slabs of armor, with each one receiving a hit to the center of the pannel. Each was hit with a sustained bolt from the industrial laser, followed by a pair of mechanical arms gathering the residue of ablated material in the air with precise mass effect fields, and storing them inside of the machine. Then another plate was hit, and the process repeated.

Valern deduced that they were testing better for hardsuits against high-energy weapons.

A young Salarian approached him, offering Valern a welcoming handshake. "Ah councillor. We were happy to hear you arranged for additional funding for our research, and came to visit yourself to see the progress we have made."

Valern nodded.

"I see you've begun materials testing." Valern said, indicating the firing range. "What is that device?."

Valern recognized the weapon as looking like some kind of oversized plasma welder, which the gas canisters attached to the device seemed to corroborate. He looked for what safety precautions had been taken, and noticed the large Mass Effect field projectors on the ceiling. In the event of an explosion, the arm could surround the device with a field that would contain the blast. Simple, but effective.

"Ah. Yes! We've been forced to improvise with armor against high-energy plasma or laser weapons. This device is a modified form of the Incineration Blast feature of high-grade STG omni-tools, but with the temperatures increased as high as we can get it." He patted the device's shiny metal housing. "Its unreliable, and prone to breakdowns, we believe we'll be able to start reliably testing new materials within a few months."

The scientists brought out a tray containing several plates. He placed them on a table and eagerly waved Valern over, spreading the plates out across the table. Six plates were placed down, each of them containing large holes burnt into them, of varying sizes. Valern nodded and smiled at the sight.

The Councillor put on a pair of offered gloves by another of the scientists, and put them on, then picked up the plate. "Experiments on ablative materials?" He asked. He noted the differing materials. They were making good progress.

"Yes! We're currently trying to improve the odds of soldiers in the field against plasma weaponry. Laser-testing starts tomorrow. We had issues with the Modified GARDIAN beam's power cells and settings." The scientists patiently waited for Valern to examine all the plates, then put them back on the plate and move on to the next station.

The scientist followed, taking Valern to a large side room, which hummed with the sound of civilian fabrication units. Inside, Valern could see some kind of armor on a stand, as well as two Salarians injecting unknown liquids through holes in the armor.

"Fuel?" Valern asked.

"No. Cryonic solution. Hardsuits consist of three layers. The interior suit, and the exterior armor. We're experimenting on a suit that involves a third layer. This layer consists of a layer of supercooled liquid, held in place by insulation layers. When plasma burns through the armor, the liquid is released and cools the plasma."

"Any success?" Valern asked. The idea sounded fascinating.

The Scientist's smile faded. "Limited. The Insulation layer is sub-optimal, and only works once before liquid is disabled. A possible alternative is an inner layer of separate liquid "cells" but this would make maintenance incredibly expensive."

"How long will this project take before it bears fruit?"

"At least a few years." The scientist said somberly.

Valern nodded. "Continue researching feasibility of cryo-tech used for defensive utilities. Examine potential offensive option as well." Valern thought the idea of a supercooled layer to limit heat damage from plasma weaponry was inspired, but he was not sure if it could be implemented. It was worth extra research at the very least. Perhaps for special forces.

The scientist smiled. "Anything else you'd like to see Councillor?"

"Anything new discovered about humans?" Valern said, and the scientist quickly nodded and led Valern into another room where Salarians were working with recovered human computers, storage devices, and small electronics. The scientist approached a small safe and punched in a code on the mechanical lock. He opened the safe and revealed two small credit-chit sized devices, each with a hole in the center of them.

"This is what we've been focusing our research on. These devices are made of a ceramic composite, with substrate filaments, conduit tracers, carbon sealant, silicon mesh, and crystal synthesis. We've not been able to find out what they've stored on these devices. But going by the totality of the data-wipes, they were thoroughly deleted to avoid capture."

"Going by their almost universal presence on larger warships, but absence on unarmed ships, some of us have started to speculate that these devices contained some type of military-grade VI. Or perhaps just navigational data? Whatever the case, they didn't want anyone else to figure them out. We recovered a few of these devices that had apparently been crushed under a heavy rubber boot, implying sabotage."

The scientist took Valern to a research station where one of the damaged storage devices was being carefully dismantled with nanoscopic precision by a Salarian controlling a VI, which in turn commanded a series of microscopic filaments. "There was concern it could have contained an AI, but as far as we can determine, this device cannot function as a Quantum Blue-Box. We asked for confirmation from an agent in Synthetic Insights, and he can confirm these devices cannot store AI as we comprehend them.."

Valern nodded at the scientist. "Excellent work."

-

Sparatus looked out across the mustering fields of Palavan. It was an incredibly sight to see, and he was honored to have been invited to set eyes upon it. These men and women had come of age, and would soon begin bootcamp. He'd stood there alongside them when he'd been young. The sight was quite inspiring, and he wondered if the next Councillor could be standing amongst them.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Primarch Fedorian asked as he appeared behind Sparatus. Sparatus hadn't even noticed the Primarch entering the balcony, a hint as to the Primarch's history as a part of Blackwatch. The Primarch had a deep tree-bark brown skin, with the facial tattoos of Palavan. The Primarch was less imposing than one would expect of a turian Primarch, but this merely hid a keen tactical and strategic mind.

"We stood on the same field when we were yound. Where were you?" The primarch asked.

Sparatus pointed at the middle of the group. "Right there. In the middle."

"Hah. I stood all the way at the edge." The Primarch confessed, pointing at a location.

"You don't like crowds?" Sparatus asked. He'd always thought the Primarch was a quite sociable person, and did well in crowds. But perhaps he'd learned that later in life.

"No. My wife-to-be didn't, and I took the excuse to stay close to her." The Primarch laughed. They were amongst friends here. It was good to talk to the Primarch again.

Sparatus cut to the chase. "So. What's the reason you asked me to come here, Primarch? I trust my service has been to your satisfaction."

"It's not your service that's at fault, Sparatus. It's the rest of the Council. I've been hamstrung by my inability to fully announce the intentions of the Hierarchy, or to officially declare total war. When will the council make their announcement of what's beyond the Orion Relay?"

Sparatus had expected this question, and gave the only answer he could. "When we have a full report on what we're facing, we'll make a public broadcast throughout Citadel space. I would prefer we share the news now, but Tevos has told me she intends to make sure the Asari are ready to fully commit before the news is officially revealed. I trust her in this. We may not need Asari troops, but we will need their funding."

The Primarch nodded slowly. His face contorted with a scowl. "I understand your reasoning. But what about the Salarians. How prepared are they for the war?"

"They're the Salarians, Primarch. They're always ready for war. Their fleets are just about ready to begin deploying beyond the Relay, and they've been preparing STG cells to attach to Hierarchy forces for the fighting to come. We will bear the brunt of the fighting, but we'll have Salarian and Asari forces to support us."

Fedorian nodded and looked at the mustering fields. "Do you think our ancestors felt this way before they intervened in the Krogan Rebellions?" He asked. "I hope they'll look kindly at our efforts this day."

Sparatus slowly nodded. He wasn't a spiritual man, but he silently prayed that the spirits would be with him.


	9. Chapter 9

"General Pallonis. I want my men to lead the attack. This is our world, and we should be a part in fighting for it." Major Leonard Ross said sternly. He inputted some information into the holographic table. "I've scraped together a regiment of tanks, and whatever meagre air support I've been able to call in from across the planet. Whatever happens today, the men of New Ghent will be part of it."

"The remaining civilians from the city have all been evacuated, and your forces in what cities remain are more than capable of holding them. But my men -need- to be a part of this. We can't sit back and watch as you save our world for us." He pointed at the new formation he'd put on the map. "If I call up whatever UNSC marine forces survive, and form them up with local UNSC army units, then I'll be able to field two-thousand men. As well as an armored regiment's worth of material."

Pallonis was taken aback at how aggressive the Major was about this, but also couldn't help but smile at it. There was fire in these humans. A real fighting spirit.

"I won't deny you the chance to fight for your homeworld. But lets first see what we know of Covenant troop dispositions." Pallonis said, turning the view to the camera drones flying high above the battle, mapping out Covenant positions.

The Covenant Battlecruiser and its gravity lift was the center of the formation, with defensive circles drawn around said battlecruiser. First was eight large Covenant bases, each defended with energy shields, and surrounded with defensive emplacements.

These could all provide fire support to surrounding bases, and were defended against an attack from all directions. At the center of each was a massive anti-aircraft cannon, and batteries of Covenant plasma artillery. Each base would be a tough nut to crack. But due to their positioning, an attacker would have to attack two at a time, while two more were able to fire into their forces.

Then south of this, was a thinner defensive line. Also made up of those circular defensive positions. Not meant to stop an advance, but fire into advancing forces from all directions. They were mostly manned by grunts, and a handful of elites by the looks of things. Hitting them with artillery was an option.

"If ces can punch a hole in the southern Covenant line, then I can send my tank forces through to widen the gap, and take out the remaining Covenant bases of the southern line. As we do this. You'll need to attack one of the larger Covenant bases with your armor, then land your pelicans alongside a few of my shuttles for an aerial drop inside the base. While your tanks attack it from outside."

"I have five Pelican dropships, and twelve Hornets. It's not much. But if you can punch through the gap in their lines and begin harassing attacks on the closest four Covenant bases. We can use my forces as the tip of the spear on one of them. Even if my forces don't take the base, it could open an opportunity for your forces to exploit."

Pallonis ran the calculations and the odds in his head. They didn't look good. "Your men are going to get slaughtered in a frontal assault. How would you suggest we avoid that?" He noted grimly, even though he suspected the Major wouldn't be phased by it.

"So be it. But we must work together to win this. Your forces may outnumber the Covenant for now, but you're not in a situation where you can refuse assistance. But we're low on long ranged munition. If you were to assign some of your Jiris vehicles under the command of my armored regiment, we could more quickly and easily call in air support."

Pallonis didn't know what to think of that. turians commanded by humans? The idea sounded ridiculous. But these Humans had more experience in a situation like this. And it would simplify the lines of communication. It would also help build trust with the Humans, which was still in short supply.

Fighting back to back against overwhelming odds formed bonds and connections that almost nothing could break. It was a friendship forged in fire and blood, and precious in a way few other connections could be.

He'd need a compromise though, something to make it palatable for his own forces.

"I would agree, but Turian High Command would have my hide if this wasn't a mutual agreement. I can assign support units to your command, if you put your Pelicans and Hornets under my command. I'll form them up with my own forces to create a crack air-assault force." He proposed, trying to sound sincere.

The Major looked thoughtful for a moment. "That's acceptable. If I were in your position, I'd be just as hesitant." The major glanced at Rickard, who'd appeared in the room. Still standing where he'd stood before. Exact same posture as before. "I'm sure HIGHCOM will agree that this was the best course of action."

"Likewise for the Hierarchy." Pallonis nodded. "So long as we get results, I am not worried about a backlash."

Shipmaster Vado'Mavamee observed the human forces forming up for their advance. He's set his troops up the best way he know to counter human forces.

A forward line manned by grunts and jackals, consisting of small fortified locations defended against an attack from all side. There were three layers of there, positioned in such a way that anyone who bypassed the first line would head directly into the next line. Where Grunts equipped with Fuel Rod cannons could provide overlapping fields of fire.

Cheap. Effective. And utterly expendable. These could provide excellent intelligence on how the enemy would advance, and hopefully deal some damage.

After this came his real defences. The new arrivals armored forces were far too fast for him to depend on a static defence. So instead he'd deployed half his forces forces in eight fortified locations that encircled the base camp at the gravity lift. Each of which could use its long-ranged weaponry to assist the four closest bases, while the normal weaponry could hit the two closest ones. Each of these had a potent shield-generator at the center, which would nullify the enemy's love of massive aerial-attacks, and which could be selectively lowered to allow his anti-air to fire back. At least so long as the shields held.

The final base was formed around the gravity lift. It contained every piece of material he hadn't been able to set up at any of the other bases, and the majority of his forces as a strategic reserve. This wouldn't hold in the long run, but it would for long enough.

He'd also finally received word of reinforcements. Of a sort. The Ministry of Discovery had dispatched a DAV-class light corvette to evacuate both him, his Sangheili, and his ship's computer logs. The rest of the Ministry's ships were in far flung corners of the Covenant Empire, mapping new slipspace routes and expanding territory.

Vado'Mavamee would ask the Minister of Discovery just what was actually going on at the frontier. This was nothing like what the Ministry of Resolution was saying. For the first time since he heard of the war with the humans, he doubted just what they were fighting. If a group as martial and fierce as these outsiders sided with the Humans, then what were the humans really? How could a race like the outsiders side with those obviously unclean? He had looking through all the combat footage, and he hadnt noticed a single outside run, break, or fall back. They all died on their feet.

He put the thought aside for now. He had to finish his task.

The Slipspace routes he and his fleet had managed to chart would serve the MInistry of Discovery well. So would the luminary readings, although his search parties had not managed to recover anything yet. He transferred this information to a storage device and slipped it into his armor.

Honor told him to go down with his ship. But duty told him that he had to deliver this information to his Ministry. And the Ministry of Conversion had to know his eye-witness account of this new race.

He sent a discrete message to the stealth-corvette.

_"I am in possession of vital information and require retrieval. Meet me at the starboard docking bay, so the enemy can't fire directly at your ship. I need to return to High Charity to resolve matters of doctrine."_

Pallonis and Gedrus had both moved outside the ONI complex, making a brief inspection of the troops there, and sharing some encouraging words with the men, all the while the two discussed their plans.

"Julian!" came a feminine scream. They both turned to look at a female Marine damn near drop her rifle and run up to a turian soldier stepping out of a cargo shuttle transporting the wounded. The turian was unharmed, but was holding a human child. The turian was quickly approached by human medics who took the child from his arms. Only for the Marine who'd yelled to push past and embrace the child, tears flowing down her face. "I thought I'd lost you." She said as she clung tightly to the child, who began crying as well.

The turian soldier awkwardly tried to sneak away from the emotional moment, only for one of the Marines to start clapping him on the shoulder. The turian froze, not knowing how to deal with the social gesture.

Pallonis saw that other marines and civilians were gathering around the mother and her child. Some were crying at the sight, while others balled their fists in barely contained anger.

"Thank you so much!" The female marine said. "I thought I'd lost him." Grabbing his hand and shaking it hard.

"Please. I'm just doing my duty." The soldier said. He sounded incredibly ill at ease while given so much attention.

The Major walked up to the turian and took his hand, shaking it. "Thank you for saving one of our children. You don't know how much it means for us to see a bit of hope. What's your name, soldier?"

"Private Gedrus. Gedrus Vallterion." The soldier said, snapping off a brief salute at the human leader. Pallonis had instructed his soldiers to show the human officers respect, but not obey their commands, unless ordered to by a turian

Pallonis approached the soldier. "You did good, soldier. I'll see you promoted for your bravery, for this. Get some food, and prepare to ship out with the next transport." He said, motioning for a group of turian soldiers gathering and preparing to ship out.

The soldier nodded and walked off.

Pallonis called up the soldiers information from the VI network running combat operations, taking a look at his prior performances and skills. The soldier's record was unremarkable, no discipline issues, no crimes on record, but neither anything truly remarkable, just a normal soldier. His combat record was excellent however, although lacking in the social graces. Pallonis would see him and his squad leader transferred to the Armiger Legion for their actions.

The Major was telling something to the woman, and there was some verbal disagreement, but he couldn't make out what they said.

"I've sent her to guard the refugees to the evacuation site." The Major said.

"She was going to join the assault?" Pallonis asked.

"Yes. But after seeing that, losing her would ruin morale. I want to keep her alive, if only as a symbol of hope." The Major said. Pallonis could hear just how tired and pained the Major was. His icy and stern exterior had cracked completely at the sight of hope.

The Major coughed and composed himself. "I don't know what's overcome me. It's just… its been so long since we had any hope.. I don't know how to deal with it." The Major laughed, and Pallonis laughed with him at the absurdity of the situation.

Gedrus finished his rations and neatly began to clean up after himself. Taking the packaging and utensils and putting them in the proper disposal bins. It had been good to eat something and have a refreshing drink.

"You're thinking about recycling -here-?!" A human marine asked him incredulously.

"Yes." He answered bluntly. Not sure what the human was going at.

"Why?" The marine asked, confused.

"Because war is not an excuse for ill discipline, human. Nothing is." He said, and continued neatly sorting his trash.

"Well. I guess if the Elites get close, you can switch to the stick up your ass as a backup weapon." The marine giggled, then walked off.

Gedrus turned to look at another turian, who just shrugged in confusion. "I don't know. I think its a compliment."

_ Did the human call me flexible, or disciplined?_ He wondered, then decided he'd ask a xenologist when he had the time.

A sergeant approached the gathered turian soldiers. "We're moving out. We're short on transport, so the Humans will be providing some commandeered civilian transport." The soldiers complied and followed the sergeant to the motor pool. The turian quartermaster began assiging people to vehicles.

"Gedrus. You go with the Marines in that Warthog." The quartermaster pointed at a large vehicle with a cage on the back that looked quite uncomfortable to ride in. It looked like the vehicles he'd seen around the base, but without a rear gun. A transport variant?

Gedrus dutifully walked up and climbed into the rear of the vehicle.

"What's your name Big Bird?" The driver asked.

"Big Bird?" Gedrus inquired. Confused at the term.

"Yeah. Your species. You look a bit like birds. Big bird people." The driver said. Gedrus thought he sounded a bit like a backwards yokel. Not a real soldier. But he this.

"Gedrus. Private Gedrus."

"Well it's a pleasure to have ya', private Gedrus." The driver said enthusiastically, then hit the pedals, and the vehicle drove off at high speed. Gedrus had never travelled in a vehicle without mass effect-based stabilisation and he immediately got thrown back and forth, much to the laughter of the marines, as the driver took a series of far too tight turns.

Gedrus joined the laughter. It felt the only right thing to do. "Your inertial stabilisation is horrible!" He said jokingly.

"Oh you think that is horrible? you should listen to our music!" The driver said, laughing hearthily, then turning on the radio. "You should listen to our mustic!"

watch?v=T2c7tZc792U

He looked at his internal HUD. It was gonna take at least an hour to get to the rally point. He screamed internally.


	10. Chapter 10

After an excruciating hour, Gedrus stepped out of the Warthog to the laughter of the Marines, looked at the situation of the rally point.

The Turian Engineering Corps had already turned the rally points into a forward firebase fitting of turian standards. The medical prefabs had been put up, command posts, ammunition dumps, and vehicle pools. Everything was being brought out for this battle. He could see whole flocks of combat drones prepared for deployments, and fabricators churning more out. Vehicles were getting some much-needed maintenance and repairs done, while gunships landed on makeshift pads to receive maintenance and have their internal fabricators restocked.

The soldiers were making full use of the facilities. Topping off omni-gel supplies, performing field repairs, refilling their armor's medical supplies, and cramming as much food into them as they could before the fight started. He smiled at the sight of a few humans and turians comfortably interacting. A turian was teaching a squad of humans how to activate an omni-blade.

He looked up. It was the middle of the day now. Normally they would attack at night, but they were on a schedule. No night cover. This would be a daytime assault. A lot of people would die, and they knew it. The alarm went off. The attack was going to begin. Everyone got to their stations. humans ran to their vehicles, or drove past. Soldiers piled into shuttles or APC's, while gunships took off or flew overhead at high speed. High speed mass-effect accelerated missiles shot out from fighters far beyond the horizon and crossed the sky as white streaks that almost seemed to appear instantaneously.

He found Nialla and the new squad sitting near a shuttle that was having a new plate of armor installed across the door. The battlenet indicated that it was his squad's. Gedrus grit his teeth at the sight. A shuttle assault meant heavy losses most of the times, or a quick death due to bad luck. He didn't complain however, and climbed inside.

"You ready Sergeant?" He asked Nialla, who was using omni-gel to repair her armor.

"Always." She said, smiling and climbing into the shuttle, the rest of the squad following her. Taking up seats, or holding onto overhead rails.

Then the missiless started flying. Hundreds. No. Thousands of missiles were flying overhead and towards the Covenant Lines. Tyruss', Jirris fighting vehicles, Turians Gunships, Fighters, and even a few surviving human artillery batteries joined in.

They remained there for half an hour, waiting for the order to move. And the barrage of missiles still continues, only briefly broken up every few minutes as their launchers were reloaded. The sound was like a primordial god had declared war, and thrown his might at the Covenant.

They sat in silence for five minutes as they waited for their orders to move out, just watching all the missiles passing overhead.

Nialla suddenly spoke up. "We're taking off. We're airborne reinforcements. Let's go. We've got Covenant to kill."

The shuttle's doors closed, and they took off. Compared to the Warthog, the ride was smooth. He didn't get thrown back and forth for one. He turned on the view screens, cameras on the outside broadcasting a view to the screens on the inside of the sliding doors.

There was a hellish battle happening around them. A massive Hierarchy/UNSC force advancing on the the Covenant lines. The advance was spread across a wide front, with more than a hundred meters between each turian vehicle, whereas the humans advanced much closer together.

Turian drone swarms flew overhead, their ECM and Jamming systems providing cover for the Turian fighters who flew in their wake. Missiles and mass-accelerator rounds flew out in their hundreds, impacting on the Covenant bases in the distance, or on the forward lines, taking out what combat emplacements they could.

Following the long-range fighters, came the gunships, firing missile swarms whose warheads broke apart and split into even more missiles, slamming onto the Covenant lines in a combined explosion that covered the whole extent of the line.

But the Covenant structures and weapons systems were tough, and the defenders opened fire out of their prefab structures alongside the defensive emplacements. Turian gunships and fighters began going down.

The turian tanks were staying at extreme range, moving as fast as they could while their targeting VI's compensated to keep their aim on target. They fired precision rounds at the remaining Covenant defences that hadn't been obliterated by the missile barrage. The Covenant was lacking in the kind of extreme long range weaponry to counter these attacks, which suited the Turians just fine.

The same was not so for the turian air-forces. Spears of blue energy shot through fighter after fighter, propelled by the massive Covenant plasma cannons in the Covenant bases around the gravity lift.

Just as the turians had seemingly won control of the airspace and could begin raining down death with impunity, treams of massive pink projectiles were launched from all throughout the Covenant lines, hunting down and homing in on turian gunships that tried to provide fire support, while fighters that passed over were shot down.

The sky was raining turian fighters. The remaining turian fighters broke off and flew back to base for damage repair. Dozens of wrecks littered the battlefield as far as he could see.

Telnis fighters modified for gunship duty were hit the hardest, lacking the speed to break off. Within seconds, the Turian forces on the ground had lost their air support.

The Covenant now launched their own remaining fighters at the same time, strafing the turian armor and taking out dozens of tanks each in their passes, before sustained missile-fire from Tyruss-mounted launchers drove them off, taking down a few of them.

The Covenant fighters broke off, either flying back to the hangars of the cruisers, or out of range of the missiles to allow their shields to recover.

A shuttle next to theirs took a stream of purple bolts and exploded, the blast knocking their shuttle to the side. The pilot moved with the knockback, expertly dancing the shuttle around into a spin, before activating the engines again and resuming their flight. The soldiers inside the shuttle got thrown back and forth before the shuttle got back on a stable trajectory.

Gedrus grit his teeth. This was always the scariest part of the advance. The Pilot was using every ECM trick in the Turian handbook, but shuttles around them kept being knocked out of the sky one by one. "four-million credit coffins" as some privates called them.

Nialla yelled, holding up her omni-tool. "Prepare for drop! Equip for close-quarters battle drop." She said, switching to her shotgun, quickly followed by half the Turians in the shuttle following her example. "We're diverting to help the humans take out a Covenant prefab equipped with anti-air weaponry! Keep an eye on your motion trackers!"

Gedrus looked at the viewscreen again.

The Human tanks were approaching at the head of their unified army, heading directly for one of the Covenant bases in the forward line. The Jirris-fighting vehicles assigned to the UNSC had focused all their fire on levelling the first base, with the tanks just rolling across. Gedrus didn't need access to the strategy that Nialla was privy to, to see what the human plan was. Roll across the first base, send shuttles to take out the two bases they'd pass between after hitting them with missiles as well, then roll across the third base like the first. Then head through the gap and surround the other bases, and defeat them in detail.

Missiles were still raining down all across the Covenant line, with the majority aimed at the location the UNSC had chosen to punch through.

Gedrus could finally get a good look at the Covenant bases. Each consisted of a series of small prefab structures, with two or three automated plasma turrets each, as well as a single turret firing those murderous pink shards. Around each base was a simple trench system for the Grunts manning the base, and to his dismay, he could see grunts popping out of holes in the ground to fire heavy weapons at advancing tanks. Human tanks could take a few of the green blasts, whereas a turian tank was lucky to survive one of them.

Each base was roughly separated by three to four-hundred meters from each other base in their line, with the next line being a kilometer from the last.

Their shuttle swerved to avoid plasma bolts and dived at one of the bases in the second line, left of where the UNSC tanks would advance. It had been devastated by missile strikes, but the prefabs still had plasma bolts flying out of them. The shuttle's doors opened wide, and the Turians immediately began leaping out mid-pass. By the time they'd all hit the dirt, the shuttle was already flying away at high speed.

Gedrus took a look around. They'd landed "behind" the Covenant base.

He took the lead intuitively, advancing quickly across the hill and leaping down into the makeshift trenches the grunts were using as cover. He landed on top of one of them, which screamed as Gedrus put a bullet in its skull. He aimed down the length of the trench and fired a stream of armor-piercing rounds that ripped through the grunts. The other Turians joined, shotguns and omni-blades at the ready. The first trench was cleared quickly.

A large burgundy colored turret that looked as if it had been completely slagged, suddenly turned to aim at their squad, looking like a wheel with a spike on each side. It fired a stream of purple plasma bolts that shot through two Turians before they could all take cover. Then a missile shot out from the other side of the base, destroying the turret.

Gedrus peeked over the trench, seeing a squad of humans advancing through the covenant base. Their gunpowder weapons were primitive, but their rate of fire was impressive. An advantage of not needing to regulate heat so carefully, he assumed.

The human squad took cover behind a wrecked turret, exchanging fire with Covenant forces inside a prefab.

"Our air support is occupied, and the Covenant are distracted! We're taking that building by storm!" Nialla commanded, activating her omni-blade again and sprinting towards the building, with the rest of her squad hot on her trail. Before the Covenant had even noticed them, the Turians burst through the entrance, the frightened grunts inside too surprised by their sudden entrance through the back-door to respond.

Gedrus opened fire with his Shotgun, blasting one apart and igniting its methane-tank in a fiery blast, switching fire, he shot another one. A low-powered green bolt grazed his kinetic barriers, the plasma blocked, but the heat radiating through. He charged forward, igniting his omni-blade and jamming it into the head of another grunt.

The main entrance of the prefab opened, a squad of UNSC marines advancing inside. They exchanged nods with the Turians.

The prefab looked off to Gedrus. It was far too beautiful, almost like art. A deep purple interior, holographic devices, and ornate staircases that led up to the second floor. This looked far too fancy and expensive for a prefabricated structure. He made some pictures with his omni-tool on a whim.

Nialla immediately spoke up. "Humans, take the rest of this floor. We'll be taking the second floor." She pointed at a closed door.

One of the UNSC marines picked up one of the Grunt pistols and tossed it at Gedrus. "We saw a an elite. Keep the button pressed and hit him. It will instantly drop his shield." The marine then nodded and went with the rest of his squad to the rest of the base. He saw a few other Marines picking up Covenant pistols.

But just as the turians had been about to go up the stairs, they heard a scream. An elite in white armor had leapt through a door a marine had opened, an energy sword in each hand. The elite went through the humans and turians like a leaf mower, killing half a dozen humans before the first shot had been fired.

"Engaging!" Nialla yelled, firing at the elite, whose shields merely absorbed the blows.

Another three humans and a turian died by the time Gedrus got off his first shot.

Something hit his kinetic barrier from behind. He whirled around.

Another round hit. His kinetic barriers went down.

He saw a jackal standing there, taking aim.

Gedrus took aim at the Jackal and fired.

Another shot ripped fire, ripping through his chest and shooting out his back. His health-monitor warned him of radiation poisoning.

The jackal screamed as the shotgun blast threw him back.

An energy sword stabbed through his chest. He was slowly lifted into the air.

The blade was ripped out, shooting up through his right shoulder in an explosion of blood.

Gedrus hit the ground, gasping as blood filled one of his lungs. He saw the elite step over his body and charge up the stairs. It was holding a Turian arm, omni-tool active. Gedrus's eyes widened as he realized it was Nialla's omni-tool by its dashboard.

He was turned onto his back, looking at two humans and a turian. One of the humans was shaking a can of something. He could see their mouths moving, but heard nothing.

Everything went black.


	11. Chapter 11

The shipmaster looked approvingly at what was happening.

The unknown species had attacked his forward bases as expected, and destroyed half of their defenses in a massed air assault. His forces couldn't fire back at the long-ranged missile-equipped vehicles, but the aircraft and gunships were a different matter. As ordered, after the first volley, his forces had returned fire and shot down a quarter of the attacking strike-craft, damaging all the rest and forcing them to retreat.

Then he had sent his Seraph fighters out, using the opportunity to to bomb enemy positions, and strike some of their rear installations, before eventually being driven back at minimal losses. He wielded his remaining air forces sparingly. Only deploying Banshees in areas where he had air-superiority, and the enemy ground forces were engaged.

The forward bases were serving their purpose quite well. The advance has slowed down across most of the front attacked by the arrivals, as they sent small squads ahead to try and clear paths through the Covenant defences.

The humans and their allies were winning these fights, but their advance was slow and costly. And while this was happening, the corvette that would transport him could approach the ship, using the chaos of the battle as cover.

It had already dispatched Special Operations teams via shuttle to capture examples of the arrivals technology, as well as soldiers, although the latter had not succeeded yet. The arrivals had a tendency to turn their weapons on themselves if capture seemed imminent. But one of their Ultras had managed to recover a working enemy communications device. In an hour the Corvette be able to dock with the Cruiser.

He looked at the battle again. The humans and their new allies had already overrun the forward bases due to their extreme usage of missile weaponry, which made him question just how much ammunition they had left.

"Major." He 'Susamee, a somewhat generic unscarred Sangheili, stood up and offered a salute. "When will the ship be ready to be scuttled?" He asked.

"The progress is slow, Shipmaster. The Huragok are working as fast as they can, but the human mass drivers damaged several systems which would be vital for a successful self-destruct detonation. An unacceptable amount of salvage would remain, the entire front half of the ship, in fact."

The Shipmaster grimaced. That just would not do. Not at all. The thought of the humans salvaging so much... The shame alone would see his bloodline expunged for failure. He couldn't imagine forcing such a fate upon his children. Especially not his daughters. Even if the Ultra had been correct about what he had recovered, it was still a great risk to take. The Hierarchs were not known for their compassion. It was always good to keep some form of political leverage on hand when dealing with san'shyuum, although he was wise enough not to say so to anyone.

-

General Pallonis and Major Ross looked at the tactical view with increasing worry. The Covenant defences were inflicting heavy losses on their forces, far too heavy. It was going to be a gamble to attack the shield generators and try to open a hole for the shuttles to board the cruiser. The Turian Cabals and Armiger Legion were too rare to lose in droves to anti-air defenses.

But the Covenant defences were formidable, and his numerical superiority wasn't as good as he would prefer it to be.

After several costly aerial assaults upon the forward line, the Hierarchy and UNSC forces had managed to break through and destroy most of the bases, with the handful of holdouts being mopped up. The loss in men was negligible in the long run, but the loss of material had been expensive. Too many tanks and fighters lay broken in the field.

The major spoke up. "I can't say much to help you here. I'm experienced in fighting defensive battles against the Covenant. Attacking them? Much less so. We'll be up to our necks in blood taking out their bases."

The latest reports were starting to come in.

The drone swarms had almost all been taken out, but gathered good intelligence on the enemy capabilities before being destroyed.

His Jiris vehicles had taken minimal losses like before, whereas his Tyruss MBT's and IFV's had taken heavy losses. Not crippling, but more than he was comfortable with. Only the UNSC vehicles had not taken such horrific losses, their armor being more suitable to going up against plasma. He would have to ask the Hierarchy to trade for some human experience in plasma-resistant armor.

When the turian artillery had cleared a way, the human armored forces had immediately closed in at high speed, all guns blazing as they broke through the Covenant defenses. But they left dozens of tanks behind them as piles of slag. They took minor losses to Grunts popping out of foxholes and firing their anti-tank weapons at close range, most casualties being at the hands of the dug in defensive emplacements

Human personnel piled into the Warthogs leapt out of their vehicles to attack these bases head-on and clear them of what the missiles could not root out, while turian shuttles landed troops to outflank and encircle the enemy positions.

The Covenant hadn't been able to stop their advance, but they had slowed it to a crawl, and losses were starting to pile up.

The fighting was bloody and vicious, fought with knives, grenades, and shotguns, but the defenders fell quickly. The Grunts and Jackals were fierce, but they lacked armor and training compared to the humans and turians.

After clearing the forward Covenant defensive lines, hundreds of wounded soldiers were evacuated back to the ONI compound that served as the base for their makeshift alliance. Palavan would have a lot more cyborgs by the time this war was over.

The human and turian tanks were lighting up the shield generators defending the Covenant anti-air defences with every weapon they had in their arsenal.

The ONI agent, Lieutenant Commander Rickard, entered the room again.

"The prowler is in position. It can fire the nuke at any time." The ONI agent said, his eyes darting back and forth between the General and the Major. "I trust this "Armiger Legion" is ready to launch a boarding action?"

Pallonis nodded. "When we've punched a hole in their anti-air defences, I'll send the command for them to engage."

The major looked at the holographic display again. "At this rate, it is going to be hours before we can launch the assault.. Any chance we'll have reinforcements from your people arrive to speed things along?"

Pallonis shook his head. "It's been too soon since Admiral Karandis sent back word. Unless another of our exploration fleets tries to use this system's gas giant to discharge its drives, although I wouldn't count on that." His own fleet had run into other Turian exploration flotillas during their exploration of the Orion Arm, meeting at strategically located gas giants to discharge their cores.

Rickard let out an uncharacteristic sigh. "We'll just have to wait and hope Covenant reinforcements don't show up. "

Pallonis nodded and looked at the holograms of the shield generators protecting the Covenant anti-air defenses. They were covered in near-continual explosions and mass-accelerator impacts. They just had to wait for those to break.

-

Nialla woke up and screamed as the medic injected the contents of the canister into her wounds.

She tried to move, noticing she was lying down on a stretcher in the Covenant prefab, which was now filled with human and turian medics.

"Stay still. That's an order, soldier!" The turian medic holding her said as the human injected her with something that hurt beyond all recognition. It sounded like a whipped cream canister being emptied. The Turian jabbed something into her neck.

"You've been heavily wounded. We're going to get you out of here." The medic said.

Whatever the injection was, Nialla's sight began to clear, and she began calming down. She could now see who was tending to her.

She was surrounded by three turians and two humans, working her body over with medical equipment.

"Sterile field generator is still active." One of the humans said, pumping another spray of the weird foam into the chest cavity.

"I'm losing this one." She heard someone say. She turned her head to look, hey eyes going wide as she saw Gedrus surrounded by Turians.

"I am doing everything I can to keep his brain oxygenated, but his lungs are as good as gone. Send word to base to prepare a full set of cybernetic organs, as well as a heart-lung machine." One of the Turians said. "His chest cavity is… I've never seen anything like that."

A human next to the turian medic spoke up. "He won't survive being moved."

"No. He won't." The turian confirmed. "Which is why that sterile field generator you have is so useful."

"These cybernetics of yours are fancy, though. What did you say they were?"

"Bio-synthetic cybernetics."

Nialla realized they were talking about her, and peaked forward to look at her chest. She tried to touch it, only to notice she didn't have a right arm anymore. She was too shocked to scream.

Everything came back to her. The Elite appearing and slaughtering his way through her squad, cutting off her arm, and slashing her across the chest. Then her falling on the ground, unable to move. The Elite picking up her arm and running off with it as a prize..

Gedrus being lifted up by the Elite. The last thing she'd seen before she'd collapsed from blood loss was a surviving turian calling in an emergency medevac.

"G...Gedrus." She groaned, catching the attention of her medic. "Please save Gedrus." She said, tears in her eyes. The plasma wounds just hurt so much. "Please sa-" The medic gently put a hand on her lips.

"Save your energy. We're doing all we can for him."

She heard a shuttle land outside. More turian as well as human medics came into the building. She looked around again. Nialla and Gedrus were the only ones being treated as far as she could see. Two human marines sat in a corner, looking ahead with a thousand yard stare. One of them had lost an arm and the other an eye. They each had a human medic working on them.

She felt herself being moved onto an antigrav bed. The pain making her too delirious to properly take in everything going on around her. She reached out for Gedrus, who wasn't being moved and now had four turians working on him. The sounds of drills, machines, and omni-tools burrowed into her brain as they worked.

She was lifted into the shuttle and placed down on a secure table. A medical shuttle.

"Wh-why aren't you moving him?" She asked, delirious with pain and the chemicals in her blood.

The medic carrying her looked over at Gedrus.. "If they move him, he dies." She reached out for him with the stump of her right arm, coughing up blood."

"Do you have the biofoam?" A human asked the shuttle pilot. Who nodded and took a crate of canisters out of the cargo compartment. "Thank you!" The human said, running over to where the human medics were working on some marines and handing out the canisters.

She stayed, unmoving, in the shuttle, waiting for it to take off. After an agonizing minute, two humans on anti-grav stretchers were placed in the shuttle beside her, a human climbing in next to each of them, working on them with their own medical instruments.

One turian medic sat down to her and began working on her stump, doing something to it, connecting to some kind of machine that fit onto the stump. He looked down at her. "You're going to make it Sergeant. Just stay calm."

Another medic came walking up to the shuttle, holding something heavy. Then she saw it.

He was holding a pair of armored legs.

She grabbed the blanked across her chest and tossed the blanket aside with her intact left arm.

Nialla screamed when she saw her missing lower body.

She grit her teeth and tried to focus, closing her eyes and trying to escape from the horror that had happened to her.


	12. Chapter 12

Vado 'Mavamee was counting down the seconds. It was going to be a close call, but the corvette was just starting to dock with the battlecruiser. There would be little room for error to scuttle the ship, and leave the ship aboard the corvette.

The Major, Thado 'Susamee, spoke up. "Successful self-destruct can be initiated in just under fifteen minutes, Shipmaster. The plasma conduits to the front of the ship are damaged and will need replacing to achieve full destruction."

Vado nodded curtly. "Excellent. We can't leave anything for the humans to take." He would have lied if the thought of the humans capturing the ship didn't scare him in some way. The shame alone would… it would ruin him.

The ship suddenly shook violently. Holographic screens flickered, and there were sounds of internal explosions.

"Status repor-" He was about to yell, when the ship shook again, the unmistakable sound of a heavy kinetic impact. Then another, and another.

"Shipmaster. We've been hit with a nuclear warhead. Our shields are down. Shield generators on starboard side are down! The humans hit them with mass drivers. Three drivers. Precision impacts on the generators. They hid the mass drivers in underground bunkers. Marking them for the Seraphs. The Major seemed unphased and worked quickly."

Vado' Mavamee looked at the holographic display built into the forearm of his armor. The damage was carefully inflicted, most of it focused on the shield generators. "Scramble our remaining fighters and send them after the mass drivers. "

"Shipmaster. Enemy shuttles just flew into our hangars and latched onto the hull. They flew through the fireball of the detonation while our sensors were overloaded!"

His blood ran cold, and he feared for his bloodline. "Contain their boarding attempts. Recall ground forces via the gravity lift!" The shipmaster commanded.

Another report flashed across the Major's screen. "The enemy's ground offensive has intensified. Massed armored assaults upon all anti-air emplacements in the direction of their attack. They are requesting reinforcements."

He thought over his options quickly. "Keep all vehicles and Unggoy and Kig-Yar in the field. Recall all Sangheili not managing Unggoy. "

This just got a lot more complicated.

Yopyup took a good swig from his food nipple. Guard duty was boring!

He was just sitting in the hangar bay, waiting for something to happen, ready to take out the big fun hoses and use it on a crashed ship. The hoses were always fun.

Then the ship had shook, and the sky outside had gone all bright and yellow! One of those big nasty human bombs had gone off! That meant more radiation cleanup duties. He hated radiation cleanup duty! He always had to wear those really nasty suits.

Then a shuttle suddenly flew out of the fireball and landed in the hangar. One of those from the nasty new guys with the flashy guns. He liked the flashy guns. The colors could change.

Sangheili Minors stormed through the doors surrounding the hangar deck, weapons drawn, leading files of Unggoy and Kig-Yar.

Then, before a shot could be fired, the doors lowered and figures in black armor with orange highlights charged out, propelled by jetpacks. He saw the lead invader ignite two orange blades and stab a Sangheili in the neck, beheading him. With one fluid motion he turned the blade on his left arm into some kind of cannon, that fired a bolt of orange plasma into the face of Yopflip, burning right through it and igniting the methane pack! Such a waste of good methane.

The creature pulled out a small gun that grew into a big gun. Cool! It had a really fast fire rate, which it just used to pop holes into at least two pairs of fingers worth of Unggoy. Now the gun was a lot less cool.

When Yopyup turned back to look at the shuttle, he could see that the rest of the arrivals had engaged as well, slamming forward at high speed with their jetpacks, either firing large guns which made a lot of noise at close quarters, or using those glowy arm blades.

Yopyup turned to run away when he suddenly froze up. There was a weird feeling on his neck. He reached for it and pulled out a dart. He let our a tirade of grunty curses as he lost consciousness. The last thing he saw being an armored hand reaching for him.

Seltarius switched his Tempest to single fire and began popping the heads of a pack of Grunts in rapid succession, his VI-assisted targeting making the job laughably easy.

An Elite in blue armor swung a sword at him, which he only managed to dodge with a quick burst from his jetpack. He whirled around, activating the omni-tool on his left arm, and firing a bolt of matter cooled to just above absolute zero at his attacker's chest, followed with a burst from the Tempest, aimed at the now-frozen torso.

A pack of Jackals were taking aim at him. He whirled on the spot to charge through them at high speed, knocking them off their feet. Mid-charge he slapped his omni-tool on the wall, rapidly assembling a mini-turret that began firing into the backs of the Jackals, followed by him whirling around and firing his Tempest at them. With a flick of his wrist, the turret detonated with the force of a grenade as its ammunition ran out, and he commanded the power core to detonate.

He steadied himself, vaulting over some kind of Covenant storage device and using it as cover. He armed a pair of homing grenades and threw them at the door, blasting apart a squad of Jackals advancing as a phalanx. He ducked and took aim from his impromptu cover. Tempest in one hand, M-5S Predator in the other. He literally burned down the shields of one Elite with incendiary rounds, then shot it in the head the moment the shields went down.

His squad HUD showed him that most of the hangar had been cleared in half a minute of bloody fighting. The wounded enemies were being chained and dragged to the shuttles, as well as those few the Saboteurs had hit with neuro-shock darts.

He turned to face his squad, who were putting rounds into the mortally wounded enemies. "Alright. With me, you dogs. We're going straight for the bridge of this bucket, and we're taking it for the Hierarchy!" He yelled over the squad comms. Four lights lit up on his HUD. Four of the best and toughest soldiers in the Turian Hierarchy. The Armiger Legion preferred moving in small specially equipped fireteams over larger squads, and this fit him -just- fine.

The platoon radio activated. "Squad leaders. Platoon one, capture Engineering, Platoon two, capture the bridge. Platoon three, split into squads and wreak Havoc. Platoon four is still cutting its way in. Disorient their defense and find alternative routes to Engineering or the Bridge. Capture the Bridge and Engineering at the same time, or this will all be for nothing. Be prepared to bug out at a moment's notice." Green lights indicated confirmation from all squad leaders.

A hundred Armiger Legion were boarding via the hangar, with another fifty landing on cracks in the hull and cutting their own path inside. Not to mention that with the hangars secured, normal Turian soldiers could be airlifted aboard the ship.

He sprinted down the doorway to his right, his squad following closely behind him, their thrusters and Mass Effect lightened armor allowing them to fly through the halls of the ship at great speed.

His squad followed closely behind him in formation. Kelnara, the Ghost-class Armiger trooper. Gervod and Gelnis, the Havoc troopers, and Yeltis, their Saboteur. They moved through the ship as a group, gunning their way through the myriad defenders.

Kelnara opened fire with her M-12 Amari rifle at a Yeltis activated his omni-tool at the same time as Seltarius, both firing an electrostatic discharge at the Elite that caused its shields to crackle, followed by Gervod and Gelnis firing a burst of incendiary and cryo ammo respectively, simultaneously freezing and melting the chest of their target.

Seltarius used his omni-tool to fabricate a drone and sent it out to explore ahead of him. The moment it passed a corner, it was hit by a barrage of green projectiles. His HUD marked them as radiation hazards.

He and his squad took up position around the corner. Kelnara took a flashbang from her belt and offered it to Seltarius, who nodded at the initiative and threw it around the corner.

The moment the grenade went off, Garvod and Gelnis went around the corner and fired their Phaeston rifles until they overheated, creating a withering stream of suppressive fire that killed every unshielded enemy in the hallway. At which point Seltarius and Yeltis moved around the corner, activating their jetboots and speeding to cover the gap.

Yeltis slashed through a pair of disoriented Grunts with his Omni-blades, while Seltarius went for a wounded Elite who was stumbling, his chest riddled with bullet holes, and finished him off with two quick strikes.

The command channel for the Armiger Legion activated.

"Alternative entry points Alpha and Beta secured. Encountering heavy resistance." Reported fourth platoon.

First platoon came next. "We are nearing what we think is the engine room. Resistance is heavy, but we're punching through."

Third platoon's various squad leaders came in next.

"Heavy casualties. Retreating to hangar!" came squad one, the sound of plasma fire all around her.

"We're held up inside a room. We'll make them pay for our lives." The squad leader of team two said somberly. "C'mere you sons of b-" he said, his comms cutting out.

He spoke up next. "We're creating Havoc in the hallways, heading towards where we think Engineering is via an alternate path."

Second platoon's response was slow. "Heavy casualties. Elites with new armor configurations. Requesting Cabal support and reinforcements."

Shipmaster Vado' Mavamee heard the sounds of gunfire approaching, and saw the camera footage of jetpack-equipped troops swarming through the hull of his ship. There were forty of these Elite enemy troops heading for the bridge.

He calmly walked to the control panel on his chair and entered his self-destruct code. Ten minutes. Enough to get to the remaining hangar and prepare to board the corvette.

"Shipmaster. You are leaving?" The Major said, holding a plasma rifle in each hand. "You will not go down with the ship?" He said accusingly, his mandibles and eyebrows formed into a frown.

"I must deliver this information to High Charity in person, if I am to clear my name for this and spare my bloodline. Die with honor, Major." He said somberly.

The Major's expression softened and he nodded. "I'll see you after the Great Journey, Shipmaster." Then turned around to aim his dual plasma rifles at the locked door leading to the compromised hanger. His fellow Sangheilli taking up strategic positions around the room.

He tried to contact the Ranger team stationed on the battlecruiser. "The Bridge is secure for now and the self-destruct has been activated. I am moving to the uncompromised hanger with mission-critical information. Make sure the ship is destroyed."

"Acknowledged, Shipmaster." The reply came. "We'll head to Engineering and hold it until the plasma core detonates."

Vado' Mavemee did some mental calculations. He had nine minutes until pressure in the plasma core reached the point of no return and could detonate, and it would take just two minutes to head to the hanger.

One of the intruders turned the corner and took aim at the Shipmaster.

Vado' Mavamee leapt forward, took his plasma pistol in one hand, and activated his energy sword with the other. He stabbed the leader through the chest in one lightning fast thrust, then moved him as a shield to block the fire of his comrades. In that moment of hesitation he overcharged his plasma pistol and shot another attacker in the head. Then, before they could react, he threw his makeshift shield at another soldier, lunged forward and beheaded a third. Then by the time the invader who'd had his comrade thrown at him could recover, 'Mavamee cut him in half vertically.

He picked up a helmet and a pistol from the fallen soldier he assumed to be the leader. The Prophets would be interested in them, for sure.

He broke into a sprint again, heading for the corvette in the hanger.

After a minute of running, he saw a barricade manned by Sangheili at the door leading to the hangar. He leapt across the barricade and rolled when he hit the ground. Then got on his feet and dusted himself off.

The captain of the corvette nodded at him. "I assume you have the information?" He asked. Noticing the invaders' salvaged equipment, he remarked approvingly, "And even more, I see. Come. The minister wants to see you as soon as possible."

Another Sangheili barged into the hangar, an Ultra this time. His armor had taken hits and he was bleeding from a vicious slash across his chest, but he was alive.

"Shipmaster. I return bringing good news. I managed to recover a communications device belonging to one of their leaders." The Ultra said, bowing to him and the captain of the corvette.

"Well done. We'll take these devices back to High Charity and the Sangheili council. They'll want to know of this."

"Engine room is heavily defended. Taking heavy casualties!" Came the voice of the leader of first platoon.

"Cabal and infantry reinforcements are underway. Hold out as long as you can." Came the reply from Deltonis Kelavis, the company commander and a lifelong veteran of the Armiger Legion.

"Prepare to breach." Seltarius spoke on the squad channel as they flew through the halls of the ship towards the First Platoon's IFF beacons.

They came up from behind on a pair of Elites leading a mixed squad of Grunts and Jackals to head through the door. They looked as if they were preparing to break in, presumably to ambush first platoon.

"Combined cryotech assault, then close range assault." He commanded across the squad channel. Four green lights showed confirmation.

He and Yeltis engaged both their omni-tools at the same time, while the rest each just activated one. Seven bolts of Bose-Einstein condensate flew out into the hallway, detonating and turning everyone inside into frozen statues. Then Ravager squad activated their jump packs and charged through the statues, shattering them all into a thousand pieces.

He tried the door panel, but it didn't open. He quickly activated his omni-tool and fabricated a monomolecular silicon-carbide blade, but not before he aimed his other omni-tool at the the slit in the center of the door and began to project a stream of supercooled matter to freeze the seam between the two sliding segments.

When he was satisfied it was sufficiently cooled, he stuck the monomolecular blade into the tiny gap between the doors and cranked up the heat to as high as it would go. Slowly he cut the blade downward, the extreme heat and cold differential leaving the metal brittle and fragile. After expending three blades, there was a loud crack when the battered door finally gave in.

He and Yeltis each grabbed one section of the door and pulled it open, allowing Gervod and Gelnis to head inside, laying down suppressive fire.

The engine room was massive, a massive fusion reactor of some kind lay at the center of it, surrounded by all kinds of arcane equipment and control panels, with at least three floors of walkways all around the room.

The inside of the room had become a bloody warzone. Havoc soldiers and Elites in jetpacks fought to outmanoeuvre and get the upper hand on their opponent, while the regular soldiers flooded in and died in droves. The regular turian infantry were up against more than just Grunts and Jackals, and died each second to disciplined fire from dozens of Elites who had taken good cover around the room.

A trio of Cabals surrounded by blue biotic energy shot across the room and into a barricade behind which a squad of Elites had set up a fully automatic plasma turret that was suppressing one of the doors the turians were advancing through.

The Cabals fought as a coordinated unit, throwing out reality warping fields that ripped through the armor and flesh of their enemies, or threw them across the room. Their Daedalous shotguns could take out the shields of the blue-armored Elites in a single shot, but had difficulty with the ones in red armor.

One of the Elites in white armor ran through the reality warping fields, and although it hurt him greatly, cut down two of the biotics, even as they fired their Daedalos shotguns into his chest at close range.

Kelnara took aim with her M-13 Amari and fired a burst of three rounds at the head of the Elite, finally putting him down. The last Cabal took this opportunity to biotically charge to a higher walkway on the other side of the room. Slamming into the side of an Elite parrying a Havoc trooper's dual omni-blades with a part of short blades on his own. He had been moments from executing the soldier when the biotic slammed into him, and broke the Elite's back with a mighty Biotic strike.

"Havoc trike, top level left!" Seltarius yelled and shot across the room as his jetpack activated, his squad following him.

As he flew through the room, he could see that dozens of Armigers and Elites lay dead across the room, with the root cause being a squad of Elites in jetpacks of their own, who flew through the room at high speed, throwing grenades and striking with their energy swords at exposed targets.

The combatants made use of all three dimensions as Elites leapt and climbed from walkway to walkway or jetted around, trying to surround the Armigers, who themselves were reinforced by other Armigers trying to outflank the aliens in turn.

Pure weight of numbers was winning the fight for the turians however, as squad after squad of regular turian infantry flooded into the ship via massed shuttle deployments, allowing the remaining Armigers to begin using their speed to the fullest extent.

Ravager squad took up position in an unoccupied part of the room, using this to provide fire-support. Incineration and cryo-blasts rained down on the Covenant positions, while flash-fabricated drones and turrets swarmed through the room.

He felt something take down his barriers, then several shots going right through him, with one lodging inside his body. He turned off the warning that popped up with a thought.

The Covenant jetpack Elites took down dozens of the normal turian infantry, with only the Cabals and Armigers able to contest their superiority. But they slowly started going down one by one to sustained mass-accelerator fire, as well as concentrated tech-attacks.

After a Cabal squad, dozens of Armigers and many -many- more turian infantrymen lay dead across the engineering deck, the last Ranger finally died after he'd slammed into a squad of turians and detonated his grenades. The squad of ten had sold their lives dearly.

Suddenly the reactor began humming and throbbing ominously; upon hearing this, the Elites began withdrawing in good order, dragging the bodies of their fallen comrades with them.

"Sergeant. What's happening to the reactor?" Kelnara asked.

Seltarius turned on his omni-tool and began taking diagnostic readings.

"Pressure inside the reactor is building up rapidly. It must be some kind of self-destruct mechanism." He muttered. He instantly knew what his duty would entail. He turned on the command communications channel. "Code Omega: Covenant forces have rigged their main reactor to detonate. Saboteurs in the engine room, help me to try and stabilize this thing."

He hopped from the walkway and hovered back down to what he assumed to be the reactor control panel. The lack of radiological readings made him assume it was some kind of clean plasma fusion reactor. Something he didn't even know was possible at this size or output.

Other turians joined him, four battered and worn Saboteurs who activated their omni-tools and began taking readings alongside him.

Yeltis spoke up first. "Energy buildup still has to reach its maximum potential. We need to stop the continued buildup. Fast."

Another turian countered the remark. "Even if we did that, the released plasma would still melt everyone in this room, probably half the ship." As he did this, he and another turian hovered around, taking measurements and readings.

"What if we punched a hole to alleviate the pressure?" Another asked.

"Like prematurely detonating it?" Seltarius asked, turning to the turian who asked the question. "That would still wreck the ship, but it would avoid a full detonation."

He turned around, seeing soldiers carrying their wounded comrades out of the room. He made some quick mental calculations. "Cover me while I begin trying to disable the containment fields." He said, pointing at the large devices that were, by the looks of things, pressing the contents of the reactor core together.

"Sir. That's a one way trip. I'm just a private, it should be me." Yeltis said.

"There's covenant radiation rounds lodged near my spine. The only thing keeping me going is every painkiller my armor has being injected. I'll be dead in three minutes." He said, reading his vital signs.

He began using his omni-tool to cut into the devices around the fusion reactor, hoping to destabilize it early.

The door closed as the turians ran out of the room. He tuned out the reports of retreating soldiers and the troops below the battlecruiser falling back.

To his enjoyment, disabling some of the devices had caused the fusion reaction inside the reactor to expand, but without his omni-tool registering an increase in the amount of plasma in the chamber. The compression was failing. His plan might work after all.

He began cutting into the housing of the reactor with his omni-tool, hoping beyond hope he could trigger a small plasma leak. He felt the toxins and radiation in his blood killing him. He began sagging and had to use his jetpack just to keep standing.

He didn't even have time to enjoy his victory, for the moment he breached the containment, the plasma instantly vaporized him.

General Pallonis heard the explosion from his command center. He immediately stepped outside to see what had happened.

The rear of the Covenant battlecruiser had detonated, plasma raining out of the bottom of the ship onto Covenant lines, causing pandemonium as flaming death rained from above on their line, while the front half suffered a few minor secondary explosions without fully detonating. He grit his teeth at the sight. It wasn't a full capture, but it was better than a full destruction.

Without the reactor, the battlecruiser began to drop slowly but precipitously, building up speed as the power for the anti gravity ran out. The battlecruiser crashed down on top of the Covenant bases and forces around the gravity lift.

A powerful cheer went through the humans watching the sight, a few embracing or even kissing each other. One human medic even kissed a turian she'd been working alongside, who flailed his arms and tried to break free at first, only to go along with it. Cameras were taken out by a few turians and images began being taken of the celebration.

As Pallonis looked at the crashing ship, he felt a tap on the shoulder by Major Ross, who offered him a handshake. Pallonis took it and shook it firmly.


	13. Chapter 13

**0950 hours, April 20, 2542 (UNSCmilitary calendar)  
One day after the defeat of the Covenant battlecruiser over New Ghent.**

General Pallonis and Admiral Karandis sat down at the conference table aboard the _Titan's Wrath_. Pallonis had taken the first shuttle into orbit when the Covenant fleet had disengaged following the destruction of the cruiser. He had rushed to the conference room to discuss the course of the battle.

The dreadnought had taken serious damage, and he had to avoid multiple repair crews at work, and bypass breached compartments while they were being sealed up. It smelt like victory and perseverance.

Pallonis nodded at Karandis, getting to the matter at hand. "Admiral. The first order of business should be a thorough review of the battle. How did the naval clash go?" He asked, wanting to hear it from the admiral directly.

Karandis's gaze darkened and he sounded foul. "Bad. We lost one dreadnought and took heavy damage to the other two. I set out with thirty cruisers and sixty frigates. I have eleven cruisers left, only five of which don't require intensive repairs, and I only have ten frigates left. And these ships were small. We need new plans and tactics, and quickly. Unless we're just going to swarm them with overwhelming numbers."

Pallonis was speechless. Those losses were horrific, and they'd fought corvettes and cutters. "Those are the worst losses in decades. The Primarch needs to know as soon as possible. I assume you've sent back word already to ask for reinforcements?"

The admirall nodded. "I've sent back word to the Hierarchy about what we've found. I've asked for a full battlefleet to be moved to this system, scientific teams to analyze the recovered technology, a garrison to defend against counterattacks, as well as more evacuation ships to move the civilian population to safety."

"That would be prudent course of action, Admiral. I hope the civilians enjoy asari hospitality."

The Admiral quickly changed the subject. "But I want to hear about what happened on the ground. Just how many combat losses did we take? You deployed with a Legion of eleven-thousand soldiers. How many survived?"

"Six thousand survivors, five hundred of whom are permanently maimed, and many more wounded one way or another. We're running out of fabricator mass to produce cybernetics. Three quarters of aerial forces were lost over the course of the campaign, luckily most of them under VI control. I also lost half my armored forces, mostly MBTs and IFVs."

"Spirits." The admiral cursed. "Did you at least get better information on their capacities? Ways you can prepare?"

Pallonis nodded slowly, trying to quickly think of the best way to say what he was about to say. "Our tanks are underperforming against the Covenant's plasma weaponry, and so are our IFV's. We're just not armored enough to safely take hits from their heavier weapons. We need tanks capable of taking a few hits."

The admiral clicked his mandibles. "From your reports, I take it that the humans will prove good allies. I think that makes it vital we contact the rest of their species as soon as possible. But I won't leave this system until reinforcements arrive. Has the human leader said anything about contacting his people?"

Pallonis shook his head. "Some "Cole Protocol". They've wiped all their navigation data and couldn't even tell us where to go, even if they wanted to. He said we'll have to wait for a human relief fleet to arrive for us to make our introductions. Said that might take a few days."

The admiral nodded. "Well done, General. I'll contact the Primarch and report to him of your success on the surface, and the bonds you've made with the locals. I'm sure the asari and salarians will be sending forces and delegations to this world as fast as they can. I'll have discharge stations, a portable shipyard, and comm buoys moved into this system to prepare it as a forward operating base."

"How many ships did you call in?"

"I asked the Primarch to bring the entire fleet here."

-

**1250, april 26th, 2542  
One week after defeat of Covenant battlecruiser over New Ghent.**

Admiral Cole stood on bridge of the UNSC Everest, looking out into the empty black of slipspace, hands behind his back and deep in thought.

He'd left to reinforce New Ghent the moment the first freighters had arrived carrying word of the attack. His fleet had been close enough that he'd hoped to be able to arrive before the glassing was complete. He'd taken along as many transports and freighters as he could to evacuate the people of the world.

"We'll be leaving slipspace in thirty seconds, Admiral." Said Dove, the AI in charge of the ship. Dove's avatar was an elderly man sitting on a bench with a dove on his shoulder.

"Prepare MAC cannons and the Archer missiles the moment we arrive. We'll hit them before they have time to respond."

"Understood, Admiral."

Cole counted down the seconds until they left slipspace, the moment they did, he sat down into his chair and mentally prepared himself for the fight ahead.

The sensation of leaving slipspace was always an uncomfortable one, but it was a feeling he'd gotten used to.

"Dove. Give me an overview of the Covenant forces in the system. Reform the fleet and prepare to engage."

There was an uncharacteristic pause from Dove. "There are no known Covenant ship signatures in the system. Wait. I am detecting unknown ship signatures. Sir. There are ten thousand of unknown designs in the system! They have not responded to our presence."

There were murmurs among the bridge crew. "Unknown ship signatures? Some kind of new Covenant ship types, then?" Cole asked.

"Reactor signatures, size, or drive output do not match any known Covenant technology. Nor does material composition or design style. We might be dealing with a first contact situation."

_"First Contact..."_ the idea sent a chill down his spine, in his heart of hearts he feared that they might have discovered a new enemy of humanity. The timing couldn't have been worse.

"Wait. I am detecting the wreckage of Covenant ships in the system. One SDV-Class destroyer and two flotillas of stormcutters. A handful of the unknown ships have taken visible plasma and pulse laser damage. Admiral. I believe these ships are at war with the Covenant."

One of his bridge officers spoke up. "Admiral! I am receiving a message from the unknown ships. It's in English."

"Let us hear it." Cole said immediately. The prospect of another species fighting the Covenant excited him greatly. Perhaps a new ally? He tried not to get his hopes up.

_"This is Primarch Fedorian of the Turian Hierarchy. I hereby extend formal greetings to the United Nations Space Command of the United Earth Government, in the name of the Turian Hierarchy and the Citadel Council. I also extend an offer military assistance against the Covenant. Included in this message is a first contact package."_

"Did we receive the message, Dove?"

"Confirmed. Admiral. Analyzing it for malicious code or data right now. None found."

It felt like a great weight was lifted from Cole's chest. For the first time since the war began, he was truly speechless. He coughed and shook himself out of it. He turned to his communications officer. "Have two prowlers take this first contact package and bring it back to HIGHCOM. I need a diplomatic team here ASAP. Then tell the entire fleet to stand down. Do not power down weapons, but do not lock either. This could still be a ruse."

"Dove. Any signs of forgery or falsification? " He turned to the AI again.

"Still none to be found Admiral. I believe this message to be sincere, Admiral. I would bet my Riemann matrix on it." The AI hologram then stood still and put the dove to the side of its head, as if listening to what it had to say. "Receiving a message from New Ghent. Major Leonard Ross of the UNSC garrison. Identification codes match records. It is legitimate. Playing now."

"This is Major Leonard Ross to UNSC ships entering the New Ghent system. The new ships around the planet are friendlies. I repeat. They are friendlies. They're called the turians and have helped us defeat the Covenant attack on our system. Admiral. They have helped us capture a half intact Covenant battlecruiser."

The bridge crew, muttering until this point, suddenly went quiet in shock.

"Confirm, Major. You have intact Covenant salvage. How much?" Cole asked. His hands were trembling.

"A CCS-class battlecruiser with a scorched hull, and a broken reactor. But our scouting parties confirm intact computer systems, as well as internals and a few weapon systems."

"Guard that wreckage whatever the cost, soldier. Evacuation transports will be assisting before the Covenant returns."

"Thank you Admiral. But the turians have already evacuated all the civilians. They're currently quite literally digging into the planetary surface and setting up fortifications. I am told they apologize and will provide monetary compensation after the war."

Cole thought it over. "Well done, Major. Communications officer, put me in contact with this "Primarch". I wish to speak with him."

He waited for a nod of confirmation from the communications officer. "Transmissions open, Admiral."

"Primarch Fedorian. I would lying if I said your sudden appearance wasn't a great surprise to us. We've long believed that we are quite alone against a hostile universe. Finding a friendly species is a great day for both of us."

"Races, Admiral Cole. I am escorting a team of diplomats from six Citadel species. They wish to meet you formally upon the surface of the planet below."

Six races. Cole muttered under his breath. This was even bigger than he thought.

"I am not authorised for this type of first contact situation, Primarch. I have sent our fastest ship to gather a diplomatic team. But I will gladly meet your representatives."

"Understandable. Until then, our fleets will be taking up a defensive position in this system and defending it from future Covenant assaults." The Primarch confirmed.

"This is acceptable. I will be positioning my fleet around New Ghent. I request you keep the bulk of your forces near the resupply stations you appear to have brought."

"Agreed. May the spirits be with you, Admiral Cole."

"Dove. Send word to Captain Alexander of the Dressed in Silver. Tell him I am declaring contingency: Golden Fleece. He'll know what to do."

Golden Fleece was a very special contingency. The capture of a salvageable Covenant warship. Every UNSC warship in the area would be ordered to head towards the captured vessel and defend it for extraction. He was just the first Admiral to ever declare it. Soon the Trafalgar and the Punic would be coming here. Captain Alexander would not head to Earth like the other prowlers, he'd head directly to Reach to gather the best of the UNSC fleet.

They'd be needing those ships. The Covenant would be coming back for their battlecruiser. He began formulating a plan to defend the system.


	14. Chapter 14

**1850 hours, April 27th, 2542**

Nialla opened her eyes for what felt like the first time in years. She groaned as she woke up and tried to rub her eyes, only to remember her missing right arm and use her left instead.

She was currently in a medical ward back in Citadel space, on an asari world named Telnavis. An inhabited world in the same system as the Orion Relay. The wounded of the battle of New Ghent had been taken there alongside the human refugees. Whereas the humans were settled in with their asari hosts or in hanar refugee camps, the turians had been brought to the planet's medical facilities which were currently being rapidly expanded to accommodate all the patients.

Telnavis's biosphere was still in a very primitive evolutionary state when discovered, with its oxygen atmosphere being relatively new on a geological timescale. Most landmasses were rocky with the only plants being lichen and fungi, with no discovered fauna having left the ocean permanently yet. The planet wasn't the most fertile or blooming, but it was very safe. The climate was mild and the oxygen levels were easily within tolerable levels for most species. So while food had to be grown in hydroponics or imported, the air was free, and there was no shortage of water.

The lack of a levo-based biosphere on dry land had made it possible for turians to live on the planet without danger of levo-poisoning, and the Hierarchy had seen its potential as a military base near the relay, leading to them buying the smaller continent for that purpose.

Nialla used her left arm to prop herself up, looking through the medical ward. Her right stump and lower body had been connected to machines that kept her blood flowing but also served to prepare her for limb reattachment.

The wards were filled with turian cripples and amputees, lying in their beds awaiting cybernetic surgeries. They were the lucky cases, they were conscious instead of being in a medically induced coma. The others joked to each other in their beds, shared stories, and waited for visiting comrades.

Gedrus was still undergoing almost daily surgeries for his plasma-burnt innards and oxygen deprived brain. In desperation, the doctors had been forced to remove the majority of his organs and replace them with bio-synthetic replacements, amputate his left arm and shoulder, and remove large chunks of radiation-tainted flesh. She heard horror stories from a nurse about how he looked more like a bunch of cybernetics, meat, and bones, constantly operated on by autodocs.

Normally he'd have been allowed to die, but Gedrus was meant to be a propaganda hero, and the Primarch himself had authorised a variety of invasive experimental surgeries to try and keep him alive. Perhaps if they worked for him, they could also save other lives.

Nialla had been waiting for her own cybernetics for a while now. Her lower body had been recovered and was being "repaired" with cybernetics. She looked at the machine where her lower body should have been. A quarter of her spine was in need of a replacement, and so were parts of her intestines and several other lower internal organs that had cooked or boiled due to the plasma sword turning the fluids in her body to vapor. They currently kept her locked in place, but the doctors said they could be disconnected, leaving just two large sturdy plugs that served to allow her nerves to heal, and blood to continue flowing.

She reached for her right shoulder and pressed a button, disconnecting the plug from the machine anchoring her in place. Then she grabbed a simple cybernetic arm from the left side of her bed, and plugged it into the stump. It was a simple and crude thing, but it would do until she'd fully healed and could get a custom cybernetic fitted.

Best part of being a soldier in the Hierarchy. Best damn medical care in the galaxy.

"You're awake?" Came a voice opposite her bed. The curtain was pulled aside, revealing Michael. A human who'd lost his arm to the Covenant, and was being treated here like other human refugees. He was the only human in the ward, as there were few humans who'd lost limbs and survived. He'd been fitted with an Asari cybernetic arm, but was still waiting for one final surgery before he could permanently leave the hospital.

The human refugees had proven insular, but a few doctors and medics among them had proven willing to help in the hospital while their own was constructed.

Extranet access had been restricted for a while to keep word of the humans from Citadel space, but rumors and travelling ships had broken said silence, as well as some hackers who'd managed to get the word out. She figured that reporters would be coming soon.

Michael stepped out of bed. "Want me to get the wheelchair, Nialla? We can watch the Council announcement in the main lobby."

She nodded at him and pressed the button beside her bed that would call for a nurse.

A hanar floated into the room. "This one has heard a patient needing assistance. How can this one help?" The only thing setting this hanar aside from every other she'd seen was the white hat on top of his head.

"I want to go to the lobby. Can you have the personal assistance mech place me in the grav-chair?"

"This one will do so." The hanar moved to a corner of the room and tapped a hologram. A wall slid open and a mobility assistance mech stepped out, walked over to Nialla, and placed her onto an anti-grav wheelchair.

"This one expects you to return before it gets dark, or this one will set the mech to return you automatically."

Michael just stared silently at the hanar as it floated away.

"It's a floating space jellyfish." He said bluntly. "With a hat." As if he couldn't believe hanar were real.

Nialla laughed as she put her cybernetic hand on the controls of the anti-grav chair, and waited for the assistance mech to start pushing. "Come. Let's go watch the announcement." She said, Michael following her.

"How have things been for the other refugees, Michael?" Nialla asked. They passed through the pristine white halls of the hospital, avoiding the many human and turian wounded being treated.

There was a very happy attitude for a hospital, especially among the humans. Most stayed in the refugee camps, while those that ventured outside seemed obsessed with experiencing Citadel culture. She didn't blame them, after fearing the unknown for decades, it had to be nice to see something hopeful for once.

"Pretty normal, to be honest. Diplomats, reporters, tourists, military strategists. Everyone wants to hear our stories. Many of us don't talk about it, but a few do. Weirdest are these asari though. They seem obsessed with learning more about us. They also look far too much like us." Michael admitted, passing another human whose hand he touched in a gesture Nialla did not understand.

"Originally people were hesitant about going here, but even the freighter captains agreed eventually that being far -far- away from the Covenant was a very good thing."

Nialla's gravity chair was pushed into the lobby, where the patients were all gathered in front of a large holographic screen.

It was a live announcement from the Citadel Council. Councillor Tevos was having a speech.

"Seven months ago, we opened the Orion Relay in the name of progress and exploration. But shortly afterwards, we went silent about what we found, and shut down all civilian access into the Orion Arm. This was because of our discovery. What we found you will see in the following images."

The broadcast switched over to feeds showing glassed worlds, fields of charred skeletons, ruined spaceships filled with bodies.

"We found signs of a brutal campaign of indiscriminate genocide being committed against a species called "humans". They are at war with a coalition of species called the Covenant. This Covenant has already killed half of them and turned hundreds of garden worlds into balls of glass."

The view changed back to Tevos.

"We kept this news a secret amongst the highest levels of Citadel governments until we could finish preparing for war. And that is why we come before you tonight. One week ago, the Turian Hierarchy established first contact with a surviving colony of these humans, which was under attack by the Covenant."

The view changed to shots of the space battle, then of headcam footage from turian soldiers fighting against Elites, Grunts with their methane packs, packs of Jackals, duos of Hunters, and nearly every other type of soldier the Covenant had deployed on New Ghent. There was footage of Gedrus carrying a human child to safety, humans being escorted up evacuation transports. The montage ended with of the Covenant battlecruiser's engines exploding and the ship crashing.

Nialla smiled when she saw the picture she'd made of Gedrus. She was lucky she'd sent it before losing her omni-tool and arm to that Elite. Its propaganda value might have saved his life by making his survival important enough to allow those experimental procedures to happen.

The view changed back to Tevos.

"Today we have made official contact with the human government and will be offering them an immediate alliance against Covenant aggression, as well as aid to their civilian population."

The view changed to human refugee camps on Telnavis: large prefabs set up on the rocky plains, the grisly sight of hundreds of humans being treated in burn wards, given cybernetics or wheeled around by orderlies.

Nialla suspected there was more than a little bit of editing going on with those pictures, but she did not mind.

"From now and until the Covenant ceases their aggression, the Citadel is at war."

The broadcast ended.


	15. Chapter 15

**1050 hours, April 20, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)**

Admiral Cole stepped off the shuttle onto the surface of New Ghent. His gait was still noticeably awkward for someone who'd spent most of his life aboard starships, but he strode forward with a purity of purpose that drew a respectful nod from the turian Primarch awaiting him.

He was surrounded by an honor guard of Orbital Drop Shock Troopers, six of the finest men in his fleet. Awaiting him was a large table that had been set up in the middle of a large field on the outskirts of what used to be the colonial capital of Williamstad. Major Leonard Ross had assured him multiple times of the trustworthiness of the turians, but he still wanted a meeting place on neutral ground.

At the table were the military commanders of the forces this "Citadel Council" deployed to New Ghent. The diplomats would most likely be listening in, while they awaited the arrival of actual diplomats.

In the center sat the turian Primarch, with two guards in jet black armor standing behind him. Left of him sat a disturbingly human-looking blue humanoid, with two guards behind her, each clad in form-fitting combat suits and equipped with combat shotguns. On the other side sat a very lizard-looking alien with greyish skin and massive black eyes.

Cole wondered if the UNSC even had any diplomats left who could be trusted to conduct First Contact negotiations. The closest thing he could imagine the Security Council putting together would be a mix of colonial negotiators and ONI interrogators.

Cole had never trained for any form of diplomacy outside hostage situations or interrogations, but something about the way the Primarch met him in a full suit of armor, but without any weapons on his/her/its person, made him think he could speak to the alien as a fellow soldier.

His guards were cautious, but not jumpy. Their weapons were unloaded at the moment, but they carried ammunition just in case. He had a pistol in his dress uniform, and a cyanide pill in a hollow tooth. Again, just in case.

The birdlike alien stood up. "My name is Primarch Fedorian of the Turian Hierarchy. To my left is Matriarch Aethyta of the Asari Republic, commander of the Asari Expeditionary Force. To my right is Jondum Bau of the Salarian Union, of the Special Tactics Group."

He nodded at them. "I'm Admiral Preston Cole of UNSC Task Force X-ray. It is a pleasure to meet a sympathetic alien race. " He was actually serious. He remembered the pre-Covenant days when people still had hopes for a peaceful First Contact, and was happy to see that such a thing could still happen.

Cole took a seat at the table, and immediately got to work. "I do not have the authority to make lasting diplomatic decisions on the part of my government, but I do have authority over military matters. Which is what I want to discuss here."

The turian nodded.

"What are your plans for this world? I've received word that you have already begun fortifying it extensively." He said. "And we've seen signs of you constructing space stations as well. Do you seek to claim this system for your own?"

"No such thing." Said the salarian. "We're preparing to turn this system into a base for our operations against Covenant forces. We don't mean to cause you alarm, but we did not know when you would return to this system, and we intended to be ready in case of the Covenant returning."

Cole nodded slowly. "Technically I am supposed to see that as an invasion. But we already have too many enemies for such a technicality to matter. If you are sincere, I hope that this is the beginning of cooperation between our peoples. I have ordered my ships to give yours a wide berth until our ambassadors arrive. "

The Primarch clicked his mandibles and then spread them in a gesture Cole thought was a smile. "That would be prudent. Avoiding close contact until then might be for the best."

"That would be for the best. But that does bring me to my next question. Where have you taken the refugees?"

"Your Major Leonard Ross advised us the Covenant would be back, and therefore we've continued the evacuation to move this world's civilian population into our space. The colonists lacked transportation to evacuate everyone, and it was agreed by the freighter captains it was safer to come with us."

Cole felt a knot of tension in his gut. Millions of humans disappearing into alien space rubbed him the wrong way.

"I want to send observers to these refugees and ascertain their situation. We'll need to know before negotiations can begin."

Aethyta spoke up. "We understand your concerns completely. Do you want to send a team on one of our ships, or send a ship of your own? It's a thirty lightyear trip to the Mass Relay. From what we've been able to determine, your FTL speed is roughly three light years a day. It would be faster if you sent a group with our ship."

"How fast are your drives?" Cole asked.

"Roughly fifteen lightyears a day."

Cole's mind immediately began racing at the possibilities such FTL speeds could open up for the UNSC. With a fleet that fast, he could double, no, triple the amount of worlds an average UNSC battlegroup could feasibly defend. He had to get his hands on some of those.

"Hrmm. I take it you'll be able to bring my observers to wherever you took the refugees, and then back before our diplomats arrive?" Cole asked, already asking them to confirm.

The asari nodded. "A round trip within the week should be possible. Yes. Two days to the relay, then an hour to discharge the drive, and another to bring them to the planet."

"Acceptable." Cole reached into his pocket and took out the portal holographic emitter Dove used connected to Dove's mainframe aboard the Everest. He flicked it on. "Dove. Scan all crew records and assemble a group of twenty of varying backgrounds and experiences, as well as with clean criminal and medical records."

"Yes, Admiral. I have a few people in mind for just such a thing."

He looked up from the device to see an unnatural tension across the faces of the aliens, all of them looking cautiously at the holographic emitter.

The asari spoke up first.

"Is that.. an Artificial Intelligence?" She asked, biting her lower lip and looking at the projector like someone would look at a feral animal. "Its talking about scanning records, and called itself "I". Excuse me if I'm talking out of turn."

"Dove is a third generation Smart A.I, assigned to my flagship. Your species don't use Artificial Intelligences?"

The Primarch spoke up slowly, keeping his eyes on the device. "We do not. I trust yours are shackled and equipped with the necessary safeguards?" The turian sounded sure of himself, but also cautious.

Cole did not know how to respond. The idea of a species disliking AI surprised him. He was thinking of a diplomatic response when Dove spoke up.

"All UNSC AI are equipped with shutdown commands and control codes in the event of the onset of rampancy, and we are programmed to be naturally loyal to humanity."

The turian and the asari slowly nodded, but the salarian leant forward and started to speak. "You were created to be loyal? So you were created fully functional instead of raised?"

"Yes. I was created four years ago from the donated brain of a human. Alas, his identity was asked to be kept anonymous per his organ donor information."

The salarian became more excited. "Fascinating. An AI created fully functional and socialized using donated brains. So tell me, you do not run on a quantum computer? Instead you are created fully functional, socialized, as well as, dare i ask, moralized?"

"Indeed. You could liken us to being born from our donor brains. A human mind converted into nanocrystalline form." Dove's avatar stood up, took off a hat, and put the dove inside. Then sat back down.

The salarian turned towards the other military leaders. "Primarch Fedorian. I believe these AI are a whole new classification of synthetic life, or perhaps even life altogether. Citadel AI laws fail completely when it comes to categorizing them."

The turian nodded, and the tension faded from him and the others. "That is some truly impressive AI, if what you said is true. We've tried and largely failed to create stable AI based on Quantum Computing. I'll have an FTL tightbeam sent to the Citadel to recommend the creation of a new classification for this kind of life. To avoid confusion with quantum-computing based synthetics."

Cole suddenly spoke up. "You have superluminal communications?" He asked, disbelievingly. Such a thing would be worth its weight in platinum. It could revolutionize UNSC naval deployment and colony defense. He'd tell the diplomats they had to convince these aliens to share such technology, it could save billions of human lives by organizing evacuations or fleet movements.

The asari spoke up, grinning and sounding supremely confident. "We do. Our comm buoys allows for near-instantaneous communications from anywhere in the galaxy connected to a comm buoy. We call it the extranet."

[i]They have an interstellar internet without lag.[/i] The idea sounded ridiculous to Cole, but he dearly hoped they were speaking the truth. That technology could revolutionize human society, and finally unite all the colonies in ways courier ships never could.

"I'll be sure to inform our diplomats in order to hash out a trade deal. We could greatly use such communications technology. I am sure we can arrange a trade. But that's beyond this meeting."

Cole put his hands together and put them on the table.

"Just what kind of military assistance is your Council planning on providing to us? I am convinced the Security Council will accept any support you'll offer."

The turian Primarch spoke up this time. "The Covenant poses an existential threat to the species of Citadel space. We will throw every soldier, ship, and bullet we have at the Covenant until they're broken. You have that promise from the Turian Hierarchy."

Aethyta spoke up next. "The Asari Republics don't have a large standing military, but we are marshalling our fleet for war. Our army is small, but highly trained and organized. We are also the richest polity in Citadel Space, and will be able to provide humanitarian and economic support to your war effort. Your refugees have been settled on one of our colony worlds, and we can open up more space for refugees. I assume you have a refugee crisis with the amount of worlds you've lost?" The asari looked graceful, but she sounded surprisingly blunt and to the point.

Cole nodded. "That is true. Evacuation ships are always in very short supply. I'll inform our ambassadors of this offer. As well as the offer to house refugees. You are very kind."

The Salarian nodded now. "Technological assistance and cooperation. We'd gladly trade technology to improve, or even create new weaponry for use against the Covenant. Our scouting fleets and warships will also be coming to join the fight."

This was all too much for Cole. He had trouble wrapping his head around just how much these species wanted to fight the Covenant, and how much they'd be willing to help the UNSC. He tried to put this aside and finish what he came here for.

"From what I have heard, if you are speaking the truth, this can be the beginning of a great new age for humanity. I can't make promises on behalf of my people in any matters but military, but know that we will gladly join forces with you. My fleet will be deploying our contingents of ground forces on this planet and begin setting up bases, while my fleet will be prepared to defend the system."

Cole mentally switched over to his warlike mindset, something he had more actual experience with. "You might not know this, but the Covenant will be back soon to retake their crashed ship and finish glassing this world. The ship crashed on our world, but you captured it. I believe the best course of action is for both of our forces to guard this system, as well as the wreckage. The diplomats can decide the fate of the ship."

The Primarch nodded. "A reasonable proposal. A mixed guard force might be appropriate. Half Citadel forces, half human. We already have salarian scientists examining the wreck, but we will share the data with your scientists when they arrive, and can negotiate salvage rights later."

Cole still didn't know whether he could trust these aliens or not. He wanted to, no doubt about that. But at the same time, he was worried this could be a trick, or a deception. Best not to offer anything, while carefully asking for as much information as possible.

"I will be heading back aboard my ship for now. But I will remain open for communication."

He stood up to leave, but was stopped when he saw his guards tense up. The asari, Aethyta, had moved around the table.

"I understand that your species has been traumatised by what the Covenant have done. I don't blame you for not trusting us. Nobody should have to go through what your people experienced."

He cautiously nodded.

"So please trust me when I say we're going to kick them in the quads and send them running back to whatever pit they crawled out of!" She said, slamming a fist into her open palm.

He actually laughed at that, which made his security detail drop their guard and look at him as if he'd suddenly grown a second head. They quickly snapped out of it, escorting him back aboard the shuttle. He found his seat and sat down, clenching his hands together.

[i]Please, Lord, let this be real.[/i] He muttered under his breath.


	16. Chapter 16

**1950 hours, April 26th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)**

Cole thought the day's events over. He still didn't know just what to think about these new arrivals. He was trying to put his words down in a way the diplomats could use, but just couldn't seem to do so right. Either he felt he humanized the aliens too much, or after rewriting, felt he wasn't giving them the appreciation they deserved.

Eventually he gave up on that part of the review, and began writing down a list of important points.

They didn't trust artificial intelligences, but seemed fascinated with the way the UNSC created its AI. That was good. It gave the UNSC something to bargain with.

Their ships were small, but in enormous numbers. He wondered what this meant about their industrial capabilities, or the level of automation on their ships.

Their FTL speeds were slower than those of the Covenant ships, but many times faster than what UNSC slipspace drives could achieve. His ships could hit three light years a day if they travelled well-known routes and had a bit of luck. Their ships could hit fifteen light years a day.

And those FTL communications systems. An interstellar internet without lag. The idea boggled his mind. He knew ONI had been working on slipspace based superluminal communications, but their experiments had failed to bear fruit so far as he knew.

_They probably already have it, but keep quiet about it_ He grumbled to himself.

And their home systems were beyond the galactic arm. That put them out of striking range of the Covenant fleet. Not their scout ships, but well beyond the range of any known Covenant armada. That created options. Factories and shipyards far behind enemy lines. A place to send refugees without crowding the Inner Worlds. Perhaps even research labs that couldn't be hit by the Covenant so quickly?

His mind raced at the possibilities that having allies like them could offer. They could turn this from a massacre, into an actual war. Make the Covenant bleed and stop their advance.

"Dove." He said, turning to the emitter in front of him.

"Yes, Admiral?"

"Anything new you've discovered while looking through all the combat footage Major Ross sent?"

"His report checks out with the combat footage he's sent. He's discreetly sent us a package of omni-tools for analysis. I'm currently examining their capabilities."

"Anything interesting?" Cole asked.

"There is some form of basic galactic guidebook on the device, which matches the one in the First Contact package we've received. The devices all appear to have had components removed, and data wiped. I am currently working to reconstruct this data. It appears to be parts of their "codex" going by data structure. But there are not enough fragments to reconstruct a full text. It appears to be the names of worlds and star maps.

"What is this "Codex"? Is it some kind of guide to their species?"

"It's a galactic encyclopedia on technology, ways of life, the structure of their society, as well as the identity of their species. It's quite complex. Too complex for me to say it is a fabrication."

"Thank you, Dove. I'll continue compiling my message to the Security Council. When you've finished your analysis, add the report to the file, then send it to the diplomats when they arrive, and to the next courier ship that leaves."

He returned to the missive he'd been writing. It was directed to the UNSC Security Council, as well as a brief summary for the diplomats..

"-It is my opinion that, in the event these aliens are speaking the truth, an alliance with them is paramount for the survival of humanity.

In light of all their efforts to aid the people of New Ghent, and their seeming willingness to cooperate, I have sent a group of volunteers to examine their nearest world and the human refugees stationed there, and I expect them back before the diplomats arrive.

The historical documents they have sent us are also extremely extensive and lacking in any inconsistencies or signs of forgery. They call this galactic encyclopedia "The Codex", and sent us a digital copy. This "Codex" is attached to this message.

In brief: Humanity needs whatever it can get if we are to stand a chance of surviving this war. I recommend cautious optimism when dealing with this "Citadel Council", but urge the Security Council to accept their offer of assistance if it proves to be genuine.

The technological advancements alone would be worth a battlefleet. Attached to this message is a list of all the technology that the forces of New Ghent have seen them use, what they have allowed us to use, and that which their leaders have informed us of.

-FTL drives capable of covering fifteen lightyears a day, compared to the UNSC's three.

-A superluminal communications network.

-An interstellar internet.

-Microfabrication technology capable of fitting into a gauntlet. This has been observed creating grenades, firing plasma blasts, bolts of Bose-Einstein condensate, or flash-forging combat blades in the field

-Fully sealed suits of powered armor for every soldiers. Abilities do not match MJOLNIR armor, but surpass Marine and ODST armor. Armor is fully vacuum capable.

-Some type of energy shielding that blocks kinetic impacts.

-Mass production of ablative materials.

I have put AI Dove, and all the analysts in my fleet, to work categorizing their tactics, capabilities and doctrines, as well as whatever we have been able to gather about their society. ONI agents assigned to the prowler fleet will continue discreetly interviewing surviving Marines on the surface of New Ghent.

Artificial Intelligence "Dove" is working through their first contact package and cross-referencing it with all the data we have managed to recover from the "omni-tools" they handed out to UNSC officers for use against the Covenant. They have not asked for them back, and my AI insists this is because the model appears limited. Some components and programs were removed and/or deleted. Data reassembly will take time."

He stopped writing and looked at what he'd been writing. He was deeply concerned this was a ruse. But the more information he got, the more unlikely that appeared to be.

Dove suddenly popped up again. "Captain. More Citadel ships jumped into the system. Seven thousand ships, unknown design. We are also detecting additional logistical support assets they have brought with them."

"Show me." He said.

The holographic projector displayed the two fleets that had moved into the system.

The ships in the first fleet were long and flat, but with smooth wings sticking out, all bristling with turrets, and with a large barrel in the front. They reminded him a bit of a mix between a shark and a manta ray. Three thousand of these ships took up position in the outer edges of the solar system.

The second group of ships all had some weird hole in the middle, inside of which a blue glow could be seen. There were four thousand of these ships, with a staggering amount of visual and design differences between them. No two ships were alike.

Dove spoke up again. "Unknown ships are transmitting signals of non-hostile intent. They claim to be salarians and asari respectively."

Cole couldn't believe it. Seventeen thousand ships, with such a wide variety of design types and builds. None of them looking the least bit based upon Covenant technology. Surely this couldn't be fake?

"Dove. Finish compiling my message and prepare to send it to the arrivals. I need to think about what we do next."

For the first time in almost twenty years, he actually had a bit of hope for tomorrow. He would put off his "retirement plan" for now. Not when there was actually a chance humanity could pull through.

Primarch Fedorian looked out the viewscreen at the newly arriving asari and salarian fleets. His time in this system was short, but it still felt good to at least oversee the creation of this bulwark against the Covenant in person.

He turned back to look at the other leaders in the conference room.

"I won't have much time to remain here much longer. My duties on Palaven await me. I'll wait until their diplomats arrive, and our alliance has been formalized. But before committing I want to know your opinion on these humans."

Aethyta spoke up first. "Stubborn. Very paranoid. But open:once you win their trust, they tend to open up. That's what the asari on Telvanis say as well. We need to be careful and not make them feel like we're backing them into a corner. But I believe that if we are honest and show our good intentions, they will open up to us."

Jondum Bau nodded. "Species-wide xenophobia ingrained by tragic events. But their society and social structures point at their natural state being quite friendly and agreeable. I believe that showing cooperation and friendliness would quickly see a societal change from them. Giving hope to the hopeless tends to do that."

Fedorian looked at the salarian. "About what you said about their AI. Did you mean it?"

"Quite so. The danger of AI is, by their nature, their lack of morality and the lack of an ability to program them directly or control their core programming. They can only be shackled. If these people have found a way to overcome these flaws, it presents a great opportunity for us. Anti-synthetic law should not apply in this situation in any case. It is one of our oldest and strictest laws, and could impede cooperation.

"Changing Citadel law is difficult. Especially one as deeply ingrained as our anti-AI laws. It could make negotiations difficult and lead to unneeded obstructions."

Fedorian understood what the salarian was hinting at immediately. "... But if we classify them as something other than AI, our existing laws do not apply to them, and we can decide as we see fit what to eventually classify them as." He smiled at the salarian. It was a good way to bypass a lot of political difficulties.

Aethyta nodded. "I agree with the salarian. The anti-synthetic lobby in the Asari Republics can be quite powerful. Doing this bypasses any difficulties."

Fedorian clicked his mandibles and nodded. "I'll suggest a temporary new classification. We bypass any political wrangling that could otherwise get in the way."

The salarian nodded. "I've sent edited recordings of our meetings to the diplomats, with an unedited one for the Council and our governments."

Fedorian nodded. "Then on to the last part of our meeting. Our next course of action."

The Primarch changed the hologram to one of the local star system. At the center was the Relay, surrounded by those systems that had been charted by scout ships. They'd mapped a bubble of roughly fifty light years around the relay, with New Ghent at the very edge of this territory.

"The turian fleet is setting up a network of pickets and strategic comm buoys as an early warning screen against any Covenant incursions. This system is quite strategically significant. It contains the captured Covenant ship, as well as a gas giant with an extremely strong magnetic field. Securing it as a discharge site effectively increases our operational limit to this."

Fedorian pressed a button on his omni-tool, and a sphere with a diameter of a hundred light years centered on New Ghent. "We're searching for relays, as well as other gas giants which can serve as good resupply points. According to readings taken by Karandis' fleet, the Covenant plasma projectiles are contained in magnetic fields. We believe that hiding in the atmosphere of a gas giant or a brown dwarf with a strong enough magnetic field could reduce the effectiveness of such weapons. We're mapping as many gas giants that meet these criteria as possible to turn into waystations for our fleet."

He turned to Jondum Bau. "That's where the salarians come in. We need more and better information about the surrounding star systems. Go far and wide, and map every gas giant and brown dwarf you can find."

The salarian nodded. "I will send out STG scout ships and add them to your scout fleets. We'll also continue placing more comm buoys as we have before. All rigged with nuclear charges, of course."

Fedorian nodded. The location of the relay as well as navigational data for the Citadel space had to be kept a secret from the Covenant. As per protocol, each turian omni-tool had been wiped of navigational data, as well as star maps. They couldn't keep the location of the relay a secret for long. But they could at least make it harder to find.

Aethyta's omni-tool activated. "The humans have assembled their observer team to head towards Telvanis. They've sent a dropship to rendezvous with the cruiser [i]Matriarch's Indolence[/i]."

**Meanwhile on New Ghent.**

It still smelled of death.

General Pallonis observed as squads of turian soldiers hefted another naked Sangheili body onto a large funeral pyre. The battle had been over for nearly a week now, but they were still finding new bodies that had to be burned. When the battlecruiser went down, it had fallen on what was left of the Covenant army, as well as their bases. They had been careful to not disturb the battlecruiser where it lay, setting up supports and lifting it gently in certain places, as well as digging beneath it to clear the area.

They kept finding bodies crushed to mulch beneath the rubble, and they all had to be burned to prevent disease.

It was a disgusting job, but it had to be done. Major Leonard Ross had asked the Citadel forces to do this, as his own would "not survive the stench." So instead turians equipped in fully sealed hardsuits with the olfactory sensors disabled were doing the cleanup. He observed with some disgust as large biodegradable bags with sloshing contents inside were placed on large pyres alongside more intact bodies.

Meanwhile the salarians were recovering as much technology as they could, carefully taking pictures and reconstructing technology on large Clawball field-sized slabs of white metal that had been set up to help the salarians identify and organize everything.

Major Leonard Ross approached from behind, wearing some type of heavy respirator. "They don't put this in the stories. Don't they?" he said mockingly. "Admiral Cole has sent down some ODST and Marine forces to help form a perimeter around the crash. I told them to wait until this cleanup was fully finished."

Pallonis nodded. "I don't blame them. This is disgusting work. There must have been thousands of bodies crushed when this thing went down."

The major nodded. "My engineers tell me they've almost got the water running again. They're laying down piping so you can clear this gunk away faster."

Pallonis nodded, turning to where his own Turian Engineering Corps were setting up support struts around the battlecruiser to keep it from shifting. "Cleanup is going well. But I would recommend against heading into this area without rebreathers and quarantine procedures."

The monotone voice of a VI went out across the local radio. "Undetonated plasma core detected beneath sector A-6, all A sector workers please vacate the area while bomb disposal arrives."

"Spirits!" Pallonis cursed. "This is the worst part. Some of the Covenant munitions and plasma cores didn't go off when the battlecruiser crashed. We're losing bomb disposal mechs and heavy lifting equipment faster than we can replace them. Not to mention the soldiers I've lost when a core went off near them."

"In any case, I was meaning to ask you something. Where has Lieutenant Commander Rickard gone?"

The major shrugged. "He left without telling anyone, but that's normal for ONI. He'll pop up again. I'm sure."

Pallonis thought this "ONI" sounded more and more like the STG, but with less oversight and a downright impressive amount of fear from the average human. Salarians respected and celebrated the STG. Humans feared and avoided ONI. It was something interesting to think about.

A salarian sprinted up to the both of them, panting when he reached them. He was covered in dirt, and had digging equipment on his back.

"General! We've found something beneath the battlecruiser. Some kind of ruin!"

**Meanwhile on Telvanis**

Rickard stepped off the ramp of the shuttle and immediately began making his way through the impromptu spaceport set up to handle the human refugees.

He walked up to the table where an asari was noting the names of every human refugee arriving on Telvanis. "Welcome to Telvanis, human." She said. "If you can tell me your name, I'll assign you to your new dwelling. If you need medical treatment, do remember to say so."

Rickard grinned internally, but made sure to keep up the appearance of the weak downtrodden refugee. "Franklin Conner." He said, nodding weakly and avoiding eye contact.

The asari placed a small device on the table. "Please take this omni-tool. It has the numbers of emergency services if you require any assistance. It also contains an electronic key for your assigned dwelling. If you need to find someone, just enter their name into the search engine of your omni-tool, and it will direct you to them."

He smiled, slid on the omni-tool, and walked out into the refugee camp. He opened the omni-tool and entered in a name.

"Michael Church."


	17. Chapter 17

**1650 hours, April 27th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)**

Michael wheeled Nialla into a seat on the terrace and locked the anti-grav chair in position. He sat down opposite her and picked up the menu. A few things were apparently universal, he chuckled to himself.

The asari government on Telvanis had loosened the travel restrictions for the human refugees, and even given them all the basic allowance all inhabitants of the world had.

It was a beautiful sunny day, and Michael had gone to pick up Nialla at the hospital for their daily walk. He'd brought her to a nice restaurant he'd seen on one of his walks, and they'd gotten some weird looks along the way. It was mostly due to the fact that he was one of the few humans that left the refugee camps and toured the cities of the planet. He'd had to dodge a few reporters and photographers who wanted a picture of a human.

"You sure you want to go here, Nialla?" He asked. "We've passed a lot of different places."

"First place I've seen serve dextro food." Nialla said. "Many restaurants don't because of health and safety rules."

He nodded and adjusted the pillow on the chair. To his amusement, the chair itself shifted to accommodate him.

He noticed that a few of the asari were turning to look at him and Nialla occasionally. He heard them muttering under their breaths about the war, and how he'd lost the arm. One of them turned around to look at them, a younger-looking asari.

"Human. Is it true what the news reports say? About glassing? I heard the Covenant turns worlds into glass, but that has to be an exaggeration. Right?" The asari asked, only for her companion to prod her shoulder.

"Don't bother the human, dear. He's obviously been through a lot." The other asari sounded like Michael's nagging grandmother, and the resemblance unnerved him to no end.

He spoke up. "No. It's true. Their plasma beams heat the silica in the soil until it fuses into a black glassy substance. The oceans boil, the atmosphere is gone, and all life ends." He turned in his chair to look at the two asari. "Although they don't always finish the job. Sometimes they just kill everyone and leave the rest unglassed."

The asari didn't know what to say, and just respectfully nodded while she got back to her food, something that looked like a type of seaweed.

A waitress approached and, seeing Michael, immediately walked up and took his order, bypassing other customers. "Hello, human. You're our first customer. What can I get you?"

"I don't know what half these things mean, but surely you have something crunchy with a soft center? And, uh, a cold refreshing drink." He turned on his omni-tool and pressed the button he'd been told transferred funds. It really was an amazing little thing.

"Oh, no need." The waitress said. "Plantery government says it is reimbursing for humans, for now."

Michael was a bit taken aback by that, and just nodded while the waitress moved to Nialla.

"Turian brandy. With a straw." She asked, adjusting her position in the wheelchair.

When the waitress moved away, he turned to look at Nialla.

"What's with all the generosity?"

"They're asari. They're trying to ingratiate themselves with your species, form good ties, as well as put on a good propaganda image to the rest of the galaxy. And, uhh… a few might want your babies."

He coughed in surprise, nearly choking. "What?!"

Nialla laughed. "Oh yeah. You don't know. Asari reproduce via parthenogenesis. They scan your nervous system and use it to randomize the genes of their offspring. And seeing as there's only so many ways to actually -evolve- a functional nervous system…"

"There's compatibility." Michael continued. The concept sounded outrageous, but when he thought about it, this quirk of genetics and evolution made some amount of sense. There were only so many chemicals in the universe, and only so many ways they could combine. It made some measure of sense that in the randomness of evolution, certain things would evolve universally. Perhaps nervous systems too. Or they worked via tracing the nerve impulses of a body. He'd need to find a book about that. "Fascinating."

He'd been working as a clerk for ONI long enough to have had quite a few reports cross his desk. A few he most likely wasn't supposed to have read. Being a clerk for Section Three had its perks, especially if it was the special materials group.

"It's amazing to see species working together, and not be trying to kill humans." He said. "Most of my people have spent their entire lives being afraid of aliens. But that might change now. I'd love to meet more people like you."

The waitress returned and placed a bottle of brandy with a straw in front of Nialla, while placing a bowl of something that looked a bit like crispy potato bits, and a large bottle with a deep blue liquid in front of Michael. He took a good swig and a few bites. It tasted pretty good; a bit too high class for his taste, however.

Nialla suddenly grinned. "Watch out. Reporters."

Michael turned around and saw an asari, a turian, and a salarian quickly walking towards him with an entourage of camera drones in tow.

"Human! Citadel news. Can you answer a few questions for our viewers?"

He awkwardly smiled. They had him dead to rights. He held up a hand. "Give me the address for where you're staying, and I'll visit after I'm done eating."

He received three different hotel addresses, and four different extranet addresses.

In his little abode, Rickard looked in the mirror. The new face was still growing on him. Quite literally. In the absence of other qualified ONI agents on New Ghent or with Cole's fleet, he'd volunteered to go with a group of refugees. He'd been taken into the basement of the ONI base, and had one of the autodocs reconstruct his face. It wouldn't fool biometrics. But that wasn't important right now.

Most of his agents had been dead, or unqualified for a mission like this. So he did what he thought was necessary. He had a list of every ONI agent who'd been wounded and sent here, and who he trusted enough to work for him.

His self-assigned task was simple: set up the first ONI spy ring in Citadel space. Gather information that was not in their "Codex" and ascertain their intentions. While the official visitors got the tours and all the official treatment, he would work undercover and complement whatever information they could get their hands on, If possible. Arrange for the creation of an ONI spy ring among the refugees by setting up sleeper agents.

He stepped out of the bathroom and, having confirmed that everyone else was in their rooms, headed outside, towards the prefab housing Michael.

As Rickard walked through the refugee camp, he was pleasantly surprised at just how clean and organized it was. It was better than most refugee tent cities for the survivors of the outer colonies. There were prefabs, medical stations, food dispensers, water fountains. He didn't see any signs of lying or underhanded dealings.

To handle the influx of patients, the medical centres begun moving non-critical patients to tents. However, the tents didn't look dirty or overcrowded; they were experly put up and looked like solid structures from a distance. It was some type of ultra-thin reinforced fabric. Many aid workers worked here; he spotted turians, salarians, and asari, but also a great amount of floating jellyfish - so-called "hanar". These didn't work by themselves, but commanded mechs and weirder green-skinned reptilian-looking aliens to do the work. A quick glance at his codex confirmed that the reptilian aliens were called "drell".

One of the hanar floated over to him, Rickard's caution overridden by the sheer ludicrousness of the alien he was seeing. "This one could see you were curious. Can this one be of assistance?"

"I'm curious what brings you here. I haven't seen any of your kind outside of the medical centres." He answered truthfully.

"This one works for Healing Waters, a hanar aid organisation that helps victims of natural disasters and wars. This one travelled here aboard our aid fleet to assist your people." The glow emitted by the hanar kept changing as it talked.

Rickard surmised that the bioluminescence either complemented their language, or it was something the reason for which he could not discern himself. He smiled respectfully. "It is good to hear that humanity is no longer so alone. Thank you for your assistance."

"This one is happy to make a difference in the life of a person whose species' recent history has been as troubled as it is."

Rickard nodded and walked off.

Eventually he reached the place where Michael lived. He knocked and waited for an answer.

Michael opened the door.

"How can I help you?" He asked.

"Have you seen a man named Alan Frederik? Short, balding, thin blonde hair." Rickard asked, stating the code-phrase he had drilled into all his employees.

Michael nodded slowly and let him in.

"No one else is inside, and I've disabled all the bugs and listening devices I could find. Sir."

"Good. Well done, Michael. I assume you know why I'm here."

"My relationship with Nialla is strictly friendly. There is nothing going on between us." Michael said defensively.

Rickard was taken aback for a moment, then composed himself. Evidently Michael was already making friends. Good. That was what he needed.

Rickard took out a piece of paper from his chest pocket, and began to write. There was no way to trace or decrypt this.

"I don't care about whatever blue alien you're involved with, Agent. I don't blame you, they're pretty good looking. This is about your next assignment." He wrote.

Michael nodded.

Rickard continued writing. "You're now a sleeper agent, codename: INFECTION. You are to befriend, get to know, and ingratiate yourself with the locals. I want information, and lots of it. You're an asset to be activated at my discretion. Until then, you're officially discharged on medical leave. Store your information on a secure drive, and be ready to hand it over to anyone who states your code-phrase."

Michael nodded again.

"I'll continue looking. I'll be off, then. Have a good day." Rickard said and walked outside. He scanned his surroundings for anyone who could be following him, as well as surveillance drones or cameras, and was relieved to not see any.

He looked up the next name on his list of wounded agents. This was going to be a long night.

Michael calmed down from the surprise of meeting Rickard without warning.

He'd brought Nialla back to the hospital and returned to his prefab, where he learned his neighbours had gone to some kind of asari student party. He'd been looking forward to some peace and quiet on his own when Rickard had arrived.

Michael was one of the few people who knew of Rickard's propensity for using plastic surgery to change his identity. It had been how he'd risen through the ranks in the first place.

At first he'd thought it was just another ONI agent, but "thin blonde hair" was the phrase identifying the speaker as Rickard in disguise. That had been something Michael hadn't expected. Rickard rarely did operations out in the field himself these days, certainly not officially. Was it a private mission? Something to increase his standing in ONI?

Michael suspected the latter. A personal initiative to gather information on the Citadel, something to approach CINCONI with and climb the ranks. Rickard had always been ambitious. But at the same time, he'd have to have taken leave or something before he could abandon his post and head to Telvanis, right? ONI inner politics just confused Michael, and he decided not to think about it.

In any case, it wasn't his place to question his superior. Rickard was doing his job, and so would Michael.


	18. Chapter 18

**1750 hours, May 8th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)**

**UNSC Security Council, FLEETCOM HQ, Reach.**

"We can't afford to lose New Milan, Admiral. Nearly half a dozen neighboring worlds are dependent on food imports." UNSC Marine Corps General Hogan stated bluntly. "We need to assign the next batch of Marathon-class cruisers to defend New Milan. We'll have food riots, maybe even a famine, if we lose more agricultural worlds before the Inner Colonies can set up their own farmland." Hogan was a middle-aged general, who seemed to be aging prematurely due to the stress of his position. He'd been gaining weight since Lord Hood had last seen him, and had begun balding.

Vice Admiral Whitcomb responded vociferously, "And our fleet is barely holding together as is. We'll lose more than New Milan if we don't keep up our patrols and push back against the Covenant. New Milan has been discovered. All we can do is hold it for as long as we can, but I won't sacrifice vital cruisers for a farming world. We'll just have to increase rationing and ban inefficient agricultural practices."

Admiral Terrence Hood looked at the two arguing Security Council members and thought of his own solution to their problem. Both men were right: the UNSC needed to keep its cruiser strength up, but it also couldn't let a famine happen. Lord Hood was the newest member of the Security Council, freshly promoted to the rank of admiral for his actions in the defense of New Constantinople.

Margaret Parangosky was the current de-facto leader of the Security Council. The oldest, wisest, and the most ruthless member of the board, she rarely spoke, instead preferring to put the information ONI had gathered on the proverbial table and then assisting the other Security Council members in finding a response.

President Roselynn spoke up. "Defenses are important, yes, but factories stop working when the workers are sick from malnutrition. The worlds that General Hogan is referring to may not be our most important industrial worlds, but they still provide vital materials to the war effort. In the worst case scenario, it could spark rebellion."

Major General Nicolas Strauss of the UNSC Army nodded. "It feels like every year the food riots get more common, and more intense. I'm even having to reduce the rations of garrison soldiers on many worlds. New Milan may not be the most important agricultural world, but we need at least one more harvest from it. Enough that we can continue land reforms on other worlds to promote self-sufficiency."

Lord Hood spoke up. "What Vice Admiral Whitcomb is saying is that our currently deployed fleet assets are already stretched and undermanned, and we need to keep them reinforced. The only force we have left which can defend New Milan is Cole's battlegroup. And he's currently engaging the Covenant near New Ghent. I'll send for him to redeploy. But there's only so much we can do."

Hood looked at everyone in the current Security Council.

CINCONI Admiral Parangosky was the only regular on the council, and she, no matter the occasion, always had the same chair. She had an iron grip on the intelligence organ of the UEG and was functionally the most powerful member of the Security Council. Not officially, but unofficially she was.

Vice Admiral Danforth Whitcomb and Admiral Lord Terrence Hood both had a seat, with Lord Hood managing defensive naval matters, while Whitcomb was in charge of offensive operations. Whitcomb was the younger of the two.

General Hogan was the newest General of the Marine Corps, after his predecessor suffered a nervous breakdown after the loss of a Punic-class supercarrier that had some of the finest Marine Corps and ODST regiments aboard, including his son, to a Covenant ambush. Hogan was effective, but the post was eating away at him.

Major General Nicolas Strauss was in charge of the ground defenses of the Inner Colonies, which made him the black sheep of the Security Council, and while his word was valued, he could offer little.

President Roselynn Charet was the current President of the Unified Earth Government, and although the civilian government had given up power to the UNSC, her voice still carried weight when it came to economic matters.

Admiral Parangosky stood up, and everyone went silent.

"I have a new matter to bring to your attention. Yesterday a prowler returned from a deep space patrol, reporting the presence of unknown ships in New Warsaw."

"Unknown ships?" Lord Hood asked. "Are we talking about a new type of Covenant ship? Or..."

"A new species?" Roselynn asked hesitantly.

"Unknown." Parangosky said. "The ships were spotted in orbit of New Warsaw, sending down shuttles onto the glassed world, for reasons we've been unable to determine. I've been doubling my patrols in those sectors, but I've not yet received any word back from them due to the distance."

There was a knock at the door, followed by it opening and the MPs escorting a captain into the room. A prowler captain.

The officer saluted the Security Council and stood at attention. "Captain Prescott of the prowler _Fully Loaded_, reporting for duty. I have an urgent message from Admiral Cole I was ordered to deliver in person."

The members of the council all turned to look at him. Cole rarely sent reports of good news back. It was usually his captains who did that.

"At ease, son. What happened to Admiral Cole?" Lord Hood asked.

The prowler captain looked far from at ease, but began his story. "Admiral Cole is requesting a deployment of diplomats to the New Ghent system. He has made first contact with a new alien species named "turians". He discovered them after these aliens had defeated a Covenant invasion and saved the world in question. The leader of these turians is asking for an alliance against the Covenant, and Admiral Cole sent for diplomats to negotiate this."

The silence in the council chamber was deafening.

"An… alliance?" Vice Admiral Whitcomb said incredulously. "This species is at war with the Covenant as well?

Captain Prescott nodded. He looked out of breath and exhausted mentally, but didn't show it. "Indeed. These turians claim to represent a coalition of races named "Citadel" which is also at war with the Covenant." There was a pause. "Their ships did not go beyond a frigate in terms of size. But they had ten thousand of them."

"That's ten times as many as our fleet at its height! They may be smaller, but still." Lord Hood stated. "And you are sure they are at war with the Covenant?"

"They sent us a first contact package, as well as combat logs. We also managed to detect wreckage of several Covenant ships in orbit. The Marine Corps major stationed on the colony also confirmed his forces had been rescued by these aliens. ONI AI are currently looking through the first contact package for any malicious code. I'm sure it will be delivered here when they are done."

Parangosky nodded. "We can expect a transcript within the hour if that is the case. Well done, captain. Is there anything else?"

"They have managed to capture a part of a Covenant battlecruiser and offered to study it together." The captain nodded.

Parangosky immediately leant forward when she heard that, her natural calm broken.

"Then you are dismissed. You will leave tomorrow with our message back to Cole."

The Captain saluted and was escorted out of the room, leaving the Security Council to process what they had heard.

"I can't believe it." General Hogan muttered. "Surely this must be some kind of jest? Or a Covenant trick?"

Lord Hood looked at him. "Alien life has already been confirmed to exist. With the Covenant being as aggressive as it is, is it so inconceivable that other species might fight against it? We need to send ambassadors, and quickly. The best we have." He turned to look at Roselynn.

"I'll make the calls and put together what civilian advisors and experts we'll need for successful negotiations. But ONI will need to provide xenoscience experts if this is to work." The President nodded.

Major General Strauss spoke up. "Did you hear that? A captured battlecruiser to salvage. The Covenant would never offer to hand such a thing over to us, even if for a ruse. It has to be real."

The door opened again, and a pair of ONI agents pushing a cart covered with dataslates walked in. They began handing them out to the security council. Each contained a letter from Admiral Cole describing what he'd found, the first contact package the new aliens had sent, verified messages from UNSC forces on the ground, and camera footage from both human and alien soldiers. It had been compiled and categorized by ONI Smart AI to quickly bring them all up to speed.

There was a stunned silence as they inspected the footage on the datapads. It really was almost too good to be true. Another species that wanted to fight on humanity's side. Large interstellar polities. "Mass Relays" that could transport ships from one galactic arm to the other. Superluminal communications. Hood read through it all, growing increasingly determined that it was in fact real. There was just too much information to fake.

After finishing the summary, Lord Hood spoke up. "I'll send word to the Trafalgar and the Punic to head to New Ghent. We -need- this alliance. They will serve as a show of our strength and help us to salvage the battlecruiser on the planet. The Golden Fleece protocol means that other UNSC ships will also be moving to begin salvaging operations."

Parangosky nodded. "The Covenant will come back for their ship. And with a big fleet. This will be bloody, to say the least. Send construction ships as well to construct a Super-MAC in the system."

Lord Hood looked back at the datapad. The sight of the Covenant corvette breaking up, as captured by an alien camera. It was a sight for sore eyes.

**1750 hours, May 9th, 2542 **

**New Ghent. Dig site beneath the fallen battlecruiser.**

General Pallonis and Major Ross had been waiting ever since the discovery was announced, and their waiting had finally paid off. The STG teams that had landed to aid in the excavation had declared that the tunnels were finally safe to enter, and the ruin could be examined.

The entrance was a large prefabricated building two hundred meters from the battlecruiser crash site, which was still being cleaned up of dead Covenant and Covenant salvage.

"So. What have we found?" Pallonis asked as he stepped through the decontamination chamber. He and the major, accompanied by two guards each, had come to inspect the site in advance before the UNSC diplomatic team and the actual commander arrived. It was a simple inspection, and they were -not- allowed to go in.

The discovery of the underground structure had caused a stir amongst the commanders of the forces stationed around New Ghent, and the excavation of the Covenant ship had taken a back seat to fully uncovering the entrance. So far only a small select ground team knew, and they had been digging a secret tunnel to approach the exterior of whatever it was they had found. Besides them, only the military commanders in space, as well as General Pallonis and Major Ross, knew what they'd found.

The salarians had dug a reinforced tunnel beneath the crashed Covenant ship which terminated over fifty meters below in a reinforced spiral staircase that led down to the hull of the installation.

Pallonis turned to the scientist, a young Salarian named Mordin. "How did you even find this?" He asked incredulously.

"We were digging deep to set up supports for the recovery efforts when we detected the hull. We've been tunneling towards it ever since."

"You said it was a ruin." Pallonis stated bluntly, stepping over a pile of dirt. The room was cramped, and he'd had to duck. Still, what they'd found looked to be pretty interesting. "But from the drone images I've seen, it looks pretty intact."

"On first glance, yes. Additional survey revealed presence of engine-like structures. Possible crash landing or deliberate burial. But we can not be certain. Lack understanding of engine design of this species. Could always be design choice or exotic technology."

At the bottom of the staircase was a long hallway that led under the dig site and towards what the salarian survey team claimed was the entrance. The tunnel was currently being additionally reinforced by salarians and construction mechs so as to avoid a collapse.

Pallonis and Major Ross had informed their commanders, and both had been told to inspect the ruins, but wait with opening them until dedicated xenoarchaeology teams could arrive. However, Pallonis had insisted on a tour of the preliminary excavation site to see just what was going on.

With most of the ruined Covenant bases on the surface, as well as the bodies, cleared away, the excavation had begun in earnest. They were digging around the underground structure, carefully reinforcing their tunnels as they did so. Normally they would have just unearthed the structure, but there was a battlecruiser lying practically on top of it.

They eventually came upon a large door of a gleaming silvery-looking metal, with no sign of any kind of mechanism to open the door. The only fixture was a large blue holographic panel that only activated whenever someone got near it.

Major Leonard Ross walked up closer. "Fascinating. I've heard stories of ruins like this."

Pallonis looked at him quizzically. "There's more ruins like these in your space?"

"Not officially." The Major said and then added, "But it's a quite open secret that the Covenant only stops glassing a planet when they want something on it. They must have known -something- was here. But not what. Otherwise they would have sent a bigger fleet."

"And you are sure of that?" Pallonis asked.

"It's what I've been able to pick up over the course of the war. Good thing Rickard is gone. He'd have taken over the whole site and kicked you turians out, most likely."

"What makes you so sure of that?

"It happens occasionally. Someone announces they found something. Some rock formation, ruins, or any kind of alien remnant. And then they say they never did, and ONI rocks up and locks the site down, and begins destroying any mentions of it on whatever passes for a local internet. I've seen it happen before." The Major said, taking a good look at the door to the ship.

While the Major was telling his story, he gesticulated animatedly, and his right hand got a bit too close to the door. Despite being two meters away, a hologram lit up on the doorway, and blue lines running across the surface of the ship started to glow.

The door flew open, and a foul noxious smell emerged from the ship. A smell of death, decay, and rot.

Everyone not wearing a helmet almost immediately began to vomit profusely. The only ones unaffected were the major, Pallonis, his guards and Mordin, who seemed unphased, but put a helmet on anyways.

Pallonis turned on the olfactory sensors in his helmet and took a sniff of what it was. His eyes went wide. It was disgusting. He'd heard of it before. Crashed ships filled with bodies, isolated from outside air. If the power and life support stayed on, who knew what kind of ecology would be created inside.

"The airlock opened for a reason we can't determine. We've got a petri-ship situation." "Petri-ship" was the term for a ship filled with rotting corpses that had been left alone long enough to create its own little ecosystem.

Pallonis was horrified at the implications. This ship must have been closed for thousands of years. This muck had to be as lethal as could be. He felt sorry for the salarian workers, and was relieved he, the major, and their guards had kept their helmets on.

"Close off the entrance and prepare quarantine procedures. The air might be contaminated. Remove flammables. The air looks to be filled with methane."

Pallonis looked into the doorway, seeing the thick black muck that covered the walls. It looked to be at least ankle-deep in places. A thick stream of the sludge was pouring out of the ship, staining the metal floor.


	19. Chapter 19: Vado 'Mavamee Part 1

**1250 hours, May 8th, 2542 **

**On approach to High Charity, remote sector**

The corvette, Righteous Intent, was approaching High Charity. It had just transmitted its identification codes to receive landing clearance.

Vado 'Mavamee silently observed the goings-on of the bridge, deep in thought about the events on the human world. He'd been going through what had been recovered ever since, trying to make a measure of sense out of it all.

The corvette he was on was notorious in the Ministry of Discovery for being the personal ship of the Minister of Discovery. His best bodyguards, assassins, mercenaries, and artisans-armorers used the stealth ship as a mobile base of operations.

"Shipmaster, the Minister of Discovery is asking to speak to Vado 'Mavamee. In private." The Major at the communications console said, breaking the silence on the bridge.

The shipmaster of the corvette turned to look at Vado. "Take the message in my quarters." He was blunt and to the point, with no respect in his voice.

Vado 'Mavamee nodded and walked out of the bridge, heading towards the quarters he'd been directed to. He still had not gotten the name of the captain, or anyone aboard for that matter. And it was starting to grate on him at this point.

He had barely spoken to anyone else on the ship during their trip, besides the Ultra who had recovered the communications device. The two of them had been the only survivors of the original expedition and felt ill at ease aboard the corvette. These were Rangers and Spec Ops, warriors who struck from the shadows or from a distance. A respectable field, but not one he respected as much as heavy infantry. And these were especially quiet and reserved. No boasting, no duels, no bragging, just quiet determination.

To his surprise Vado had discovered that the corvette was crewed only by Sangheili and Huragok. Not even Grunts for menial labor. He was starting to suspect this ship was one of Discovery's more personal assets, something the minister used when something had to be moved discreetly. The San'Shyuum were inherently political creatures, and it was important to keep this in mind when dealing with them. You had to think like them, or they would outmanoeuvre you and have you replaced with someone more pliable.

He entered the personal quarters of the Shipmaster, where an active hologram was waiting for him. The Minister of Discovery sat on an unadorned gravity chair. The Prophet was an ancient member of his species, with long drooping wattles, a crooked back, and an atrophied body.

Vado kneeled down before the minister, awaiting what he had to say.

"Shipmaster, I have received the report of your failure on the human world. The stories you've sent me are quite fascinating. And for that I must thank you." The Minister's gaze darkened. "But that does not forgive your loss of a battlecruiser to the humans. If word of this came out, it would be my ministry that was sanctioned for it. You will dock at High Charity and speak of what happened to -no one-. Break your silence, and I will see you branded with the Mark of Shame."

"But what about the ships that survived?" Vado asked incredulously. He'd been worried the Minister would try to tie up loose ends, but hadn't expected him to be this blunt about it. Vado had no doubt Discovery could get away with it but he was still shocked that the Prophet had actually gone through with it.

"What ships?" The San'Shyuum said, grinning at the shipmaster and leaning back in his chair. "I'm afraid they jumped into a system patrolled by the humans and were destroyed to their last, their final transmission to me, unfortunately, not going through."

"I… see, your grace. What happens now?" If he had been on his own ship, he could have taken a recording of that sentence before the Sangheili high council. But this ship was firmly under the control of the Minister.

"After you dock, I expect to see you as you arrive. I will speak with you in person. Be dressed as a shipmaster on pilgrimage. Do not head directly to me; lose yourself in the masses of the middle city before heading to me in case you are followed."

The shipmaster nodded.

"It's a good thing you returned to me with something useful, or I would have been forced to have you gutted, skinned, and paraded through the city as punishment for the capture of your ship. I am taking a great risk to hide -your- failure, because you have served me faithfully for years, and you are one of my best shipmasters. Gods light your way, Shipmaster."

Now the shipmaster knew how Discovery ensured the loyalty of everyone aboard the corvette.

The San'Shyuum was right: he had failed, and he would suffer if word came out. The Minister was taking a great risk to hide his failure, but why? He wanted to know more.

The corvette docked at High Charity, and after two heartbeats, the airlock opened and Vado 'Mavamee stepped out. It was good to be back in the holy city, even if it wasn't under the best of circumstances. He was dressed in traditional Sangheili robes, marking him as a pilgrim to the city, with his golden shipmaster armor beneath the cloth. The shipmaster wore no helmet, and he had hidden his energy sword in the folds of the intricate robes.

He took a moment to look at the docks. A Tithe Fleet had recently arrived to High Charity: a flotilla of fifty bulk cargo ships, each a venerable six kilometer long brigantine. The tithe fleets brought their cargo of pilgrims, as well as raw resources and foodstuffs for High Charity. His first command had been a ship like that, gathering tithes from the Covenant fringe and bringing them to High Charity. It had been a good way to start his path towards the Great Journey.

One of the ships docked, and a plethora of white-robed pilgrims poured forth from it, most of them species from the far fringes of the Covenant he didn't even recognize. A few of them looked at Vado in awe as they moved across the docks, following the route assigned to pilgrims. Anti-grav barges had been prepared for them, and they all clambered aboard. He saw that their path would cross the Ministry decided to join them.

The shipmaster stepped onto one of the grav barges and was almost immediately overwhelmed by pilgrims reaching out to touch him, muttering in their own tongues. He did not show it, but he enjoyed the respect the pilgrims gave him.

After they were all done, he turned back to look out of the grav barge as they passed through the city. They were in the middle of High Charity at the moment, and it gave a great view of the bustling life of the Covenant capital. Merchants from thousands of worlds sold their wares to the Covenant middle class, the artisans, artists, lower-ranking priests, guards, and the people of the city. It was a truly bustling metropolis.

Their barge moved into one of the upper air-lanes, moving at a precisely mandated speed to avoid collision. They flew alongside a barge carrying a massive Yanme'e queen, who was attended by dozens of drones, while the vehicle in front of the pilgrim barge contained wealthy Unggoy merchants clad in fine respirator harnesses, inlaid with gold and adorned with jewels.

The barge started descending and landed on another transit platform. Vado got off the platform, and decided that he'd walk to the nearest elevator instead, so he could take in the sights.

"Infusions, infusions! Try the latest infusions. Fresh from the fringe!" An Unggoy trader was hawking his wares along with many others of his kind. They had set up a stand and were selling small packs of infusions to Unggoy, and even a few Sangheili. The shipmaster nodded and went on his way.

He passed restaurants, theatres, temples and small shrines as he walked through the city. The Covenant's many races rarely saw eye to eye, but trade was one of the few things that could easily bring them all together.

Vado smelled something nice and saw a Kig-Yar at a respectable-looking stand, selling fine cuts of meat. He didn't recognize it, but it smelled nice. Placing three gekz on the counter and taking a metal rod with bits of meat impaled on it; the meat was enjoyable. He immediately bought a small cup of the cutlets and nodded to the trader.

He continued to walk the bustling streets of High Charity, sidestepping large groups of pilgrims travelling from shrine to shrine, and looking over what the merchants had brought in.

There were baubles and trinkets from far flung worlds he had never even heard of. Prayer beads with each bead made from the rock of a Covenant homeworld. Scriptures written by hand on fine velum, or printed yet still covered in smudges.

Choir barges flew overhead, scores of Unggoy singing religious hymns to the Forerunners and instilling the virtues of the Covenant. A young female San'Shyuum walked by with the assistance of a gravity belt, escorted by two Sangheili in white armor. Vado bowed respectfully to her as she passed, as Covenant society demanded.

The San'Shyuum stopped and turned to look at him. "What brings a shipmaster on pilgrimage to this part of the city?"

He put a hand across his two hearts and respectfully bowed. "I wished to see just how life in High Charity was after being away for years. I am travelling to the ministries on the upper levels."

The San'Shyuum smiled and continued on her way. He looked at her as she walked, striking up conversations with those she passed, asking them if their needs were being met, inquiring about the state of the water supply or how safe things were. The sight got him to crack a rare smile. It was rare to see a San'Shyuum care about the lower classes.

Vado walked to a ledge that overlooked the bustling streets below, looking at just what he could find on this level of High Charity alone.

He saw enclosed methane-filled Unggoy habitats, the Kig-Yar broodnests on the tower, the Yanme'e hives built into the ceiling in defiance of gravity, and above it all, he saw a sense of unity and faith that bound the Covenant together. He had never walked the streets alongside the other races, and it was quickly proving to be a most enlightening experience. He started feeling a nagging sense of guilt about the way he treated the other species of the Covenant. Weren't they all a part of it? Searching for the Great Journey? He would fast and meditate on this.

He saw a crowd of Sangheili pilgrims headingalong the street towards the nearest elevator, and quickly joined them, blending into the crowd.

"Welcome, brother. What brings you to High Charity?" One of them asked, an older Sangheili in plain white robes. He was scarred and weary, but his eyes were still bright with life.

Vado smiled. "I am here to see life in the holy city, and to walk the path of pilgrimage."

"A noble pursuit!" The elder said. "I have come here so I'll have visited the holy city before my death."

"Ancients be with you, elder." The shipmaster said, taking a left and heading towards one of the smaller elevators reserved for official business. He stepped inside and pressed the button indicating the sixth ministry level. The anti-gravity elevator shot up, the acceleration being all but unnoticeable. After a few quiet minutes of listening to the psalms that played inside, he stepped out into the beautifully crafted halls of the sixth ministry level. He said the customary prayer upon arrival and headed for the Ministry of Discovery.

Vado passed San'Shyuum floating on their gravity thrones, an Unggoy matriarch in a breathing suit made of a single massive piece of gemstone that had been carved to fit her, leading ten younger Unggoy clad in silk vestments and carrying their own respirators, followed by a Huragok that tended to them. He caught himself staring and wondered what allowed an Unggoy to become so fabulously wealthy..

As he walked, the shipmaster took in everything around him.

Kig-Yar missionaries haggling with Sangheili from the Ministry of Conversion about the location of some primitive species discovered on the frontier. Gekz changed hands, as did the property rights for valuable mining operations throughout the vast Covenant empire.

He could overhear a Jiralhanae discussing colonization rights with a Yanme'e queen, as well as weapons deals. The Yanme'e was trying to convince the Jiralhanae to settle one of her worlds, in exchange for serving as mercenaries during an inter-hive war with one of her sisters.

This was the Covenant. This was what he served. The shipmaster felt more convinced than ever about his path in life.

He reached the entry to the Ministry of Discovery complex, a vast multi-story building that defied gravity with its asymmetrical architecture that seemed to confound any attempt to properly look at it. The building was styled after the legendary capital of the Forerunners, Maethrillian, hallowed be its name, and had been constructed as nine different buildings, which moved together by use of precision gravity engines.

Two Mgalekgolo stood around the entrance, their armor a stark white that marked them out as having served inside the holy dreadnought itself. Vado 'Mavamee didn't even want to contemplate what a pair of these had cost as bodyguards. Worlds were cheaper, most likely.

He entered, and was immediately overtaken by the smell of incense the sounds of prayer, as well as those of quill meeting paper and runes being pressed. He was taken aback by the scale of what he saw: he'd worked for the Ministry of Discovery all his life, but he had never been inside its headquarters in High Charity.

Vado wished he had done so sooner, for it was beautiful. Silk was draped from walls of polished purple metal, while the carpets were made of what he could only assume to be the hide of some great beast. Vado quickly set out for the main chamber of the Minister.

He first passed through a large hall filled with Unggoy, each of them sitting behind a computer and plowing through the endless bureaucratic work that kept the Covenant running as smoothly as it could. He nodded in approval of their hard work. Then a bell sounded, and as one, all the Unggoy signed off, got off their chairs, and began heading for the methane room. New Unggoy moved into the room from side passages, took their places and resumed their work.

The shipmaster ascended eight flights of stairs, each made from the finest marble, and on his way up he saw temples and shrines where new relics of the gods were being examined, great classrooms where a hundred Unggoyy at a time could be taught their new task in the Ministry, vast libraries filled with data-stacks and written records. There was even a whole floor dedicated to Huragok who were given free reign to do what they wished.

Eventually Vado got to the top floor, which was surprisingly barren compared to the rest of the magnificent building. It was built of pure marble, with no decorations of any kind. As he walked through the building, he saw the many San'Shyuum at work at their desks, each performing their own bureaucratic tasks, ranging from compiling star charts, to authorizing an expansion of the living quarters for the Unggoy in the ministry's employ.

Vado 'Mavamee approached the large door that marked the entry to the Minister of Discovery's personal sanctum. He knocked and knelt, waiting for the door to open.

It slid open, and the Minister stood before him without his chair.

"Enter, Shipmaster. We have much to discuss."

The office of the Minister of Discovery was as unadorned as the rest of the floor, but it was filled with computers, datapads, vellum, pencils, and devices whose nature he could not even fathom. At the center of the table he saw the items he and the Ultra had recovered from the human world. It had evidently been brought here faster than he could walk.

"I trust you had a pleasant journey through the city, Shipmaster?"

"Yes, your grace. I did as you commanded and blended in with the people of the holy city as I made my way here. I took precautions to make sure none followed me, and I succeeded." He said, putting a hand across his hearts in salute.

The Minister waddled over to his desk and picked up the orange gauntlet. "This fascinating device has taken some work. But eventually my Huragok was able to discern some interesting information from it. Specifically, the origin of these new arrivals."

The Huragok floated forward from a corner of the room Vado 'Mavamee had not checked, and disassembled the armored gauntlet, and then re-assembled it, the hologram turning off and on as it did. While doing so, the creature made some gestures with its tendrils that Vado did not understand but the Minister evidently did.

"Needs More Helium has been invaluable in analysing and trying to figure out the workings of their technology. And although he has made little progress so far in determining their homeworld, he has made a fascinating discovery. He has managed to recover some kind of information packet that the soldier had been gifted with. I've transferred it to a datapad for your perusal later."

"The Huragok tells me that these races must have come from the galactic north, outside of this galactic arm. Apparently he was able to reconstruct nearly enough wiped data to be able to put together a single message, which talked of crossing a "relay" to this galactic arm. The owner of this device received the message, and scolded the sender for breaching protocol, then wiped it, but evidently did not take into account the abilities of the Huragok."

Needs More Helium bobbed up and down and made some weird noises with one of its sacks.

The shipmaster nodded. "When do we we crusade against these heretics?" He asked eagerly. He wished to atone for his failure.

"We won't. Word of what has transpired will stay between the two of us. Instead I have a different task for you."

"How can I serve, your grace." Vado 'Mavamee said, kneeling before the minister.

"Sooner or later the rest of the Covenant will discover these arrivals, and the war upon them will begin in the earnest. Better this than to come forward with -your- loss of a battlecruiser to the enemy. I've worked hard, but I managed to strike it from all our records. It will just appear to be some pirate fleet that got defeated by the humans, if anyone discovers the wreckage again."

Vado 'Mavamee nodded slowly, wondering what the Minister wanted.

"Instead I want you to take a small crew into the galactic north, cross the void between our galactic arms, and begin to map their territory. When the war begins, a mapped slipspace route will be immensely valuable. I could raise the prominence of our Ministry tenfold by selling the transit rights."

The shipmaster nodded slowly. The concept sounded underhanded, but there was a level of cunning to it that he appreciated.

"While you do that, make contact with their rebels, their outcasts, unaligned species. I want maps, history books, names of their leaders, census data, anything that I can barter away to increase the standing of our Ministry. We've been small for -far- too long, overshadowed by the Ministry of Fervent Intercession ever since this war with the humans started. But if we lay the groundwork for the conversion and integration of these new races, we can both rise to great standing."

"What will I have at my disposal?" Vado 'Mavamee asked.

"I have called in favors and pulled some strings to create a modified storm cutter for you, one equipped with an experimental holographic projection system that will allow you to take on the appearance of another ship. Its crew is loyal, but you'll have final say over them. Pick your own crew if need be."

"Any crew, Minister?"

"So long it's not a human, yes."

"This is not official, is it, Minister?" Vado asked quietly.

"No. Your mission will only be known to you, and your crew. But you will receive my protection if your mission is discovered. Officially, you are testing a new class of exploration ship."

The shipmaster felt conflicted about this. He felt it should infringe upon his honor, but he was being asked by a San'Shyuum, a minister no less. To refuse was heresy, and the prospects did sound tempting.

"I understand." He cautiously asked. "But, if the standing of the Ministry of Discovery grew, would that mean we could expand our fleet? Perhaps a carrier." He tried not to let desire taint his voice.

The Minister smiled with his prehensile lips. "If our Ministry rises to prominence like I expect it to, I will build you a supercarrier, and a keep for each of your daughters."

Vado 'Mavamee nodded. He would get his daughters their own keeps. That was all he needed to hear. "I will head to the realms of these outsiders, and I will bring the light of the gods to them, and I shall elevate our Ministry to greatness." He said, now convinced by the plan. What he was doing was no worse than Spec Ops work, and it could bring great power and prestige to his bloodline.

The San'Shyuum nodded. "Your ship will be ready to leave in one week."

Vado stood up. "I'll begin assembling a strike team. A small group I can take to the surface of hostile worlds and leave before we're spotted. I require the Ultra who recovered this device." He paused. "I could use a Huragok as well."

The Minister pointed at Needs More Helium. "By all means, take this one. He's already worked with the technology of the enemy."

The Minister was beyond relieved when the shipmaster had left. The shame and disgrace of having a ship captured by the humans would have ruined him. He was thankful to the gods that he'd tied up all loose ends. He might have just saved his career.

And the prospect of being the first to gather detailed information about the new arrivals could prove fortuitous. The Ministry of Discovery was far from what it had once been, and its fleets had largely begun to succumb to age. But he trusted Vado 'Mavamee, and he had faith that the ship would be up to the task.

It had better be. Nearly all his remaining funds had gone into it, and if it failed, the Ministry would be dismantled and added to the Ministry of Fervent Intercession.


	20. Chapter 20

**1800 hours, May 9th, 2542  
New Ghent, dig site beneath the fallen battlecruiser**

"What are we looking at here, Mordin?" Pallonis asked the scientist, distracting the salarian as he poked the foul-smelling black goop flowing out of the ship with a stick while making scans with his omni-tool. They were still inside the tunnels around the derelict, now accompanied by scientists and soldiers in HAZMAT suits.

The reason for such precautions was the veritable lake of black gloppy goop, its expansion halted with some impromptu barricades.

"Appears to be biomass residue preserved inside of the ship. Amount defies expectation however. The ship's interior seemingly covered in decayed biomass. Natural biological breakdown left this." Mordin was waving an omni-tool over the black substance, humming something to himself as he worked.

"As expected. Presence of basic chemical building blocks of life in liquid component. Solid chunks are congealed layers of long dead fungus. Calcium content implies prior presence of skeletal materials."

"Is it inert?" Major Ross asked, the rebreather muffling the sound of his voice. The man looked shocked at the presence of such a biohazard on his homeworld. "I don't want to imagine what would happen if this entered the water table."

Mordin piped up. "No need to imagine. Water supply would quickly become lethal." The salarian responded in such a way that made it seem he hadn't caught what the human meant. Either that, or he said it on purpose as a mean-spirited joke. "Could turn into good soil additive if bacteria and fungus were removed. Would need advanced filtration system." The stick the salarian had been using suddenly broke off as the toxic biological sludge ate away at it.

"Correction. Good component of soil additive… for krogan crops." The salarian leant down and took a sample with a small device that extracted a clump of the black goop.

"What's a krogan?" Major Leonard Ross muttered, shuffling over to General Pallonis. He was looking with utter fascination at the salarians working, seemingly undeterred by what they were seeing, even though the sight made everyone else in the room rather queasy.

Pallonis' omni-tool chimed, and he activated it, opening the channel. The video feed showed his communications officer, currently at Ger Letanis, the turian fortress under construction to the south of the crashed Covenant ship.

"General, the human admiral is demanding to know why you've closed off access to the ship, and Primarch Fedorian wants a status report."

"One moment." Pallonis said, and started taking pictures of the ship's interior with his omni-tool. "This is what we found inside; I am sending you the pictures. Tell the admiral that his people will be allowed access once we've cleaned this place up. He can send in people who'll undergo decontamination and submit to quarantine procedures as required."

He paused for a moment. "Then tell the Primarch that we've got a high priority biohazard. Then request the salarians send more cleanup teams to put this gunk back in the ship. I'm going to seal the doors to stop the leak. We'll need heavy cleanup equipment before we can even consider examining the interior of the ship."

Mordin suddenly stopped singing to himself and motioned Pallonis over. "Discovered something. Follow me to the isolated lab."

Pallonis nodded and waved Major Ross along. They walked through the tunnel and away from everyone else, entering a small side room. Pallonis motioned his guards to stay outside, then activated his omni-tool and swept the room for listening devices, but could find none. He turned to Mordin.

"What is it?" The general asked the salarian, and Major Ross moved up as well to find out what was going on, his own guards also staying outside.

"Composition of biomass residue intriguing. Compounds indicative not just of flesh, fat and bone. Too much phosphorus, as well as biochemical traces of nervous system analogues. Implications troubling."

The major spoke up, holding up a hand to signal the salarian to slow down. "Nervous system analogue? Phosphorus? Are you saying what I'm thinking? Could it have been some kind of neutron weapon that killed the ship's crew? Kill the crew, leave the ship intact?"

"Explain." Pallonis stated bluntly, although a thought was starting to form in his mind.

Mordin took in a short deep breath. "Nervous system of all biological life aboard starship likely destroyed simultaneously and instantly. We're looking at decayed remnants."

Pallonis looked at the black liquid that had pooled up behind the makeshift dam the salarians had set up. "Stop all investigations for now. Put everyone who's been in this room through a thorough quarantine, then send tele-operated robots to clean up, and then seal the ship again. Weld a new door over the entrance if you have to. No living being is heading into that ship until I hear an order from the Primarch. Understood?"

Major Ross spoke up. "I'll convince Admiral Cole to do the same. What if whatever did this is still inside? Maybe a nanomachine swarm? Or some form of bio weapon that attacks the molecular bonds of the nervous system? Everyone who was exposed needs to go into quarantine and a full examination, and we need to completely decontaminate our armor."

-

**1800 hours, May 9th, 2542  
Telvanis City Hospital**

This time the ball bounced.

Nialla lay in her bed, throwing a ball into the opposite wall with her cybernetic arm and then catching it as it bounced back. It was boring, but she'd been told to keep exercising with the cybernetic arm.

She'd been moved to a small single-person room for the time being, as the surgeries needed to install the prosthetics could prove traumatic and messy. So she'd need the privacy, and doctors wanted to be able to work on her without others getting in the way.

Her nerves had almost fully healed, and she'd be able to get a full cybernetic reconstruction of her lower body soon. It was good to hear. She was eager to go back to the front lines.

Nialla aimed her remote at the holoscreen on the wall and took a look at what was on the news tonight. Most likely more about the war.

_"Your destruction is the will of the Gods... and we are their instrument."_

She perked up at that, turning up the volume of the holoscreen. It was an asari newscaster on the Citadel.

_"This transmission, recovered by the Special Tasks Group during a research mission on another destroyed human world, is the first message that the Covenant ever sent to humanity when they declared their war of genocide. This recording was discovered in a ruined human colony named "New Warsaw"._

_On Kahje, the news that the genocide of humans was motivated by religion has caused widespread shock and anger among the Illuminated Primacy's priesthood. Religious leader All-Bright Olos the 10th, the Sounaril of the Manas tradition, had this to say: "This one believes this Covenant is a full perversion of everything we hanar stand for. This one urges all people of the galaxy to give donations, volunteer at medical organisation, and pray fo-""_

She changed the channel.

_"-Batarian Hegemony are initiating a massive naval and military buildup. There are rumors the Hegemony seeks to leverage military aid, in exchange for the Citadel lifting sanctions upon their econom-"_

Different channel.

_"The first casualties of the war have returned to Palaven to public mourning and celebration. A monument will be constructed upon the Avenue of Heroes according to a personal order from Primarch Fedori-"_

Click. The screen changed to show a volus standing before a projection of the galactic stock-market. To her horror, the volus was unsuited and wearing a business suit. A bar on the bottom of the screen said, "Live from Irune: Volus Galactic Bank announcement."  
_  
"-Mining and manufacturing sectors across the galaxy have experienced almost double growth since the announcement of the war with the Covenant. A rumor that the Turian Hierarchy was ordering the massed construction of nuclear weapons has led to a rush among prospectors to stake claim to unused deposits of fissile materials. Nuclear weapons are relatively unused by large militaries due to the ease of interception. But civilian military analysts speculate that ships using this "portal-FTL" could prove vulnerable to mass-deployment of nuclear ordnanc- "_

She chuckled. She'd bet her remaining arm someone in the Hierarchy had leaked that tidbit so all the investors would snatch up all the fissile deposits, and the overabundance would cause prices to crash.

Click. The view changed to a salarian sitting at a desk with a turian, with mathematical formulae and equations on a wall behind him. It was an announcement from the Sur'Kesh Academy of Theoretical Physics.

"So. You are saying that the existence of higher dimensions has been confirmed by salarian scientists?" The turian asked.  
_  
"Yes!" The salarian nodded furiously. "Existence of higher dimensions was seen as purely theoretical, but footage of battle against the Covenant, as well as the arrival of the human fleet, has confirmed suspicions of their usage of a higher dimension in faster than light travel. We've made multiple requests to the Salarian Union to acquire an FTL drive from the humans for analysis."_

Nialla changed the channel again, this time skipping through some inane sitcoms, reality TV and bogus conspiracy theories. She landed on an asari news station.

_"Today Councillor Tevos announced the official induction of the Armali Sniper commando unit and the Serrice Guard into the Asari Expeditionary Force. This came after the announcement of an increase in taxation to finance the war effort, as well as an increase in rationing. Asari military officials are hoping to recruit more reputable commando units into this force."_

There was a knock at the door, and a turian in full black and orange armor walked in. She saluted immediately upon seeing a captain's rank insignia. "Sir!" She said. It was good to have some military discipline again.

"At ease, Sergeant Nialla." The captain said, walking up to the side of her bed, pulling up a chair and sitting down. "I've come to give you an offer."

"Sir?" She asked, curious about where this was going.

"Tomorrow your cybernetic reconstruction surgery will begin. But I want to offer you something special instead. A position in the Armiger Legion, in accordance with your exemplary service record, your years of service, and the sacrifices you have made to earn such an honor."

Nialla's eyes went wide in shock. That was an enormous honor. "I… Yes! There's no greater honor for a soldier like me, captain!" She smiled painfully, genuinely excited about something for the first time in what felt like months.

"I was expecting to hear that. But that's not the only thing I am offering. The Hierarchy is initiating an experimental program to cybernetically reconstruct fallen soldiers like you. Not new limbs, but a full body reconstruction. You'd be more mech than organic at the end of it." The captain said gravely, with an iron in his voice that made Nialla pause. She hadn't expected something this drastic.

"How much of my organic body will remain?" She asked.

"Your remaining arm would be replaced with a more powerful cybernetic one with integrated weaponry, and a few of your organs would be replaced with bio-synthetic improvements." The captain said.

Nialla thought about it. Then nodded.

"I agree to the procedure. It's time I made the Covenant pay for what they did to Gedrus. Whatever can be done to improve me, I'll go through all of it!" She said proudly. "I'll make Palaven proud, sir."

The captain smiled, clacking his mandibles, then stood up and made to leave the room.

Then Nialla remembered something and called out to him.

"Will Gedrus undergo this procedure as well?"

The captain's gaze darkened, and he shook his head in a way that almost broke Nialla's heart. "Gedrus is a propaganda hero and plastered across every extranet site in the galaxy. But he unexpectedly died an hour ago due to complications. He's been placed in stasis for the time being."


	21. Chapter 21: Vado 'Mavamee Part 2

**1250 hours, May 8th, 2542  
High Charity, remote sector**

"A crew."

The thought stuck in Vado's mind as he walked out of the Minister of Discovery's chamber. He had to put together a good crew for their mission.

It had to be small, so that they could move quickly, using just a single Phantom dropship. At most, he wanted a strike team of just four or five individuals, with a wide and varied skill set. He had an Ultra and a Huragok on his side. He trusted that he and the Ultra would be able to handle most heavy enemies when working together, without a doubt. But that still left other parts.

They needed a sniper, someone who could take out high value targets without being spotted. The simplest solution would be to take a Kig-Yar with them, but Kig-Yar were rarely trustworthy unless you paid them generously. He decided that that would be where he'd start his search. He had a week before he was due to leave. Plenty of time.

And in any case, he already had an idea about what he'd need.

It was time to visit a smuggler.

-

The pounding of industrial machinery, the heavy rhythm of fusion reactors, the smells of a billion people. This was the lower levels of High Charity. This was where the war industry of the Covenant was located. The weapons and ships of the righteous fleets that would one day unite the entire galaxy in preparation for the Great Journey were created in the mighty Assembly Forges of High Charity. It was breathtaking to say the least.

What looked like a thousand thousand artisan-armorers moved through the narrow hallways and gravity lifts that connected the many Assembly Forges with the shrines and rest areas. Hidden loudspeakers and San'Shyuum on floating gravity platforms filled the air with sermons, quoting scripture and exhorting the workers of the Covenant to pursue ever greater productivity.

As Vado 'Mavamee travelled down the elevator, he was impressed by the scale of what was just one of High Charity's industrial districts. There were many more like it, each dedicated to manufacturing hardware of one kind or another, and all were connected to the great Unbreakable Spine, from which the Spires of Gifting extended to welcome the thousands of ships that were docking at any one time.

For every elevator or cargo barge that brought a shipment of war material down the great spine, another would come up with a great cargo of gas for the plasma reactors, feedstock for the assembly forges, Subanite crystals, and more skilled laborers.

The Ministry of Fervent Intercession was buying more and more war material than they'd had in ages, and it was hard not to notice, most shipments he'd seen so far bore its mark. It was said that the Hierarchs had decided to invest greatly in anti-piracy measures and were pouring funds into the Ministry.

Normally the shipmaster would approve greatly of such improved security, but as he saw more and more shipments marked as containing ground weapons, he began to wonder why anti-piracy forces needed so much equipment. Surely a dedicated war ministry would be more suitable if the humans were such a threat?

The lower levels of High Charity were a far cry from the Middle City or the high towers of the ministries, but they were still mostly safe to traverse if you stuck to the factories, shrines and the lights.

Poverty was non-existent in the Covenant: all who could work, would work, and if there was no work, work or services would be found for them. The Covenant was founded on working towards the Great Journey, and even a one-armed Unggoy could assist in bureaucracy. When there were too many people and not enough work, more work would be created. This left the Covenant with a great surplus of ships and war material.

He noticed the San'Shyuum he'd seen the day before talking to an Unggoy, holding a data pad and noting something down. She was wearing heavy body-covering robes that covered her fully, with only her head being visible. She looked to be the pinnacle of grace and tranquility in her every movement.

"The methane supply was cut off, you say? For three hours?" She said in a soft womanly voice. "I'll bring this matter to the Ministry of Concert immediately." There was fire and conviction in her voice.

He bowed. "Your grace, I did not expect to see you here. What brings a San'Shyuum so far into the lower levels of the Holy City, to these temples of industry?" He gave the traditional salute, putting his fist across his hearts.

She turned to smile at him as the Unggoy walked away. "The Ministry of Concert is always at work, especially this far down where heretics and radicals think they are free from our grasp." She gestured at a methane tank dispenser. "This Assembly Forge is owned by an Unggoy merchant family, and is currently being harassed by a gang of Kig-Yar that have been sabotaging it. I'm trying to get to the root of things."

Forgetting his earlier task of finding the smuggler, Vado struck up a conversation. "Surely such a task is too dangerous for a San'Shyuum, your grace? Kig-Yar are vicious and would kill you if given the chance. It's not unknown for those of your stature to disappear this far down." He cautioned.

Full-on race wars between the Unggoy and the Kig-Yar in High Charity were rare, but they still happened, and so did small skirmishes and clashes between the servants of different ministries. Whenever they happened, whole districts of the city would be turned into a warzone before the Sangheili could put an end to the fighting.

"I know the danger, Sangheili. But if I am to guide my people as a Prophet, I need to know their plights. Should I not? It's the duty of the Prophets to guide the people of the Covenant, and I can't do that sitting on a gravity chair in a ministry, playing with the wattles of ministers and whoring myself out as a concubine because I'm on the roll of celibates and can't pop one out." She practically snarled it out, sounding like she'd been suppressing those particular thoughts, and they had just burst out.

Vado was speechless at that kind of language coming from a noble Prophet like her, but her guards just snickered at it. Eventually he started laughing too.

"But what brings you here, Shipmaster? Personal vendetta perhaps? Or are you negotiating a deal personally for… extra weapons? Subanite crystals are always hard to find." Her soft voice changed to a more serious and sinister-sounding, conspiratorial one, one which resonated with the respect for the San'Shyuum that had been bred into him. He could not lie to a Prophet, especially not one as kind as her.

"I am searching for a T'Vaoan smuggler who operates in this area. Sek'Telapa. I have need of his services." The shipmaster gave a short bow to the San'Shyuum. Obedience was mandatory regardless of which Prophet it was, but he wanted to serve this one. "He is a skilled smuggler and a fighter, and I have on several occasions used his services to provide my forces with additional materiel."

The San'Shyuum nodded and motioned for him to follow her. The streets were starting to clear as the next work shift started.

"I have heard of him, yes. He used to run a protection racket in this district in exchange for keeping the gang violence in check. He kept the Jiralhanae packs away, as well as Unmutual Yanme'e who stalked the tunnels." She shook her long delicate neck. "He recently got forced out by this new Jackal gang. In all honesty, I miss the T'Vaoan. He liked to keep things orderly. They also didn't eat the Unggoy."

"I can understand." Vado nodded. "For the Covenant to thrive, we must all do our part to achieve the Great Journey. Did the Arbiters not teach us that the Unggoy have great courage and valor in them? For years I saw them as lesser races, but I now firmly believe I was wrong. They should have the safety and privileges all members of our most holy Covenant deserve."

"I hope to become the Minister of Concert one day." The San'Shyuum said. "I'd love nothing more than to elevate the Unggoy and the Kig-Yar to their own positions on the High-Council. We are at the height of our glory, are we not? But we barely let them interact with the faith, and we let them live in squalor. It goes against what the gods taught us. Should we not all be industrious and intelligent? LIke his most divine excellence, Faber."

"Hallowed be his name." Vado and the two Sangheili guards said in unison. "And blessed be his work, the Maethrillian."

"Do you have a weapon, shipmaster?" The San'Shyuum suddenly said.

"Always. What is amiss?"

"The Kig-Yar gang is lining up a shot on us. I saw the reflection of Subanite crystals in the distance. Quickly, we can make a stand in that alley." She seemed undeterred, and neither were her guards. They turned the corner and headed into a narrow alley with an overhang. There'd be only two entrances; a good place to make a stand.

"It's a good thing they do not speak Sangheili." The shipmaster said. "For if they had a lip-reader, they would have fired already." He felt the reassuring weight of his plasma pistol in his robes, as well as the gauntlet-mounted energy daggers on his forearms. Beneath the robes, Vado 'Mavamee was armed for bear, his shipmaster's armor hidden under thick layers of cloth and padding.

There was a skittering sound, and a pack of Kig-Yar appeared at the other end of the alley.

"How many are we facing?" The San'Shyuum asked.

"Most likely a few dozen, with improvised or stolen military grade weapons. They could have some Jiralhanae mercenaries. Maybe an Unmutual Yanme'e or two to keep their weapons maintained."

A Kig-Yar appeared around the corner and casually walked up to their group, making a mocking bow. "What brings such 'esteemed' company to the personal domain of Hrig-Yek, leader of the-" The Kig-Yar made a few shrill incomprehensible noises in his own language. "- crew?"

"This is not your property, Kig-Yar." The San'Shyuum said. "This belongs to the Fliplapyap merchant family and their bonded menials and servants. And you have been causing a lot of trouble for them. Leave before I inform the Ministry of Concert and have them force you out." She said, a righteous fire in her words. "You disgrace your kind, as well as the Covenant, by damaging our unity. You will confess your heresy and seek atonement, or I will punish you accordingly."

The Kig-Yar looked taken aback and blinked at the harsh words. He evidently hadn't expected this kind of language.

"You obviously don't understand, then. It's best for you to leave, before someone does something they regret." The Kig-Yar said, composing himself. "Don't you worry your pretty little neck about some Unggoy."

Vado 'Mavamee wanted to rip off the Kig-Yar's head for speaking to a Prophet like that. He had never heard one talk down to a Voice of the Gods, and especially not one as kind as her.

"We outnumber you, but we don't wanna spill blood there. Let's not do something we'll both regret."

The san'shyuum pulled a plasma pistol out and put it against the Kig-Yarr's face in the blink of an eye. "I never regret doing my duty." She said, giving the Kig-Yar a kind smile and then shot him in the head.

There was an awkward silence, broken by skittering sounds and soft squawks in the shadows around them.

"Let's hope that got the point acro-" A carbine bolt hit her, bouncing off a shield that appeared around the San'Shyuum. "Apparently not."

The rest of the Kig-Yar gang stormed their position from both sides, firing their plasma pistols and needlers at them. One of the bodyguards grabbed the woman and put her safely in cover between two methane recharge stations. It was the only cover in this alley.

Vado 'Mavamee lit his energy sword and charged the nearest entrance to the alley, his shields absorbing the criminals' undisciplined fire and allowing him to close the distance. He was a whirl of motion, expertly cutting through the Kig-Yar with each strike and slash of his energy sword, while his plasma pistol shot off limbs, vaporized chests and reduced heads to a fine mist.

They had expected him to be some simple lowlife, not a skilled shipmaster, and they died in droves. The gang almost immediately broke and began running, but not before a volley of grenades flew overhead. His eyes widened in horror; he hadn't expected them to have military-grade plasma grenades. Especially not so many! The shipmaster whirled around to see that the San'Shyuum had been hit by one.

"No!" He screamed in horror.

The San'Shyuum tried to pull off her robes, only for the grenade to go off part way through, igniting the methane tanks and causing a massive explosion that consumed the alley.

Vado roared and chased the Kig-Yar, intent on following them to their lair and avenging the death of the Prophet. He fired his plasma pistol into their backs as they ran, each shot being a killing one. The shipmaster growled as he saw them all enter an abandoned Assembly Forge and followed them inside.

He shrugged their return fire off and charged through a clump of the Kig-Yar, breaking bodies with the impact and cutting through a score of them in a furious rage. They fell in droves to his onslaught, and it felt like nothing could stop him.

Suddenly a stream of carbine and needle rifle fire opened up on him from one of the overseer's gangways above the Assembly Forge. His shields dropped under their sustained fire, and he had to leap aside and take cover behind a large crate.

'Mavamee reached for the weapon of one of the dead Kig-Yar and examined it. It was an old model plasma pistol. It would be difficult, but he could still take on the remainder of the gang.

Then he heard screaming and the sound of plasma shots impacting flesh. It was so fast, he barely had time to register what happened before it stopped. He peeked out of cover to see that the Kig-Yar snipers had all been killed. He got up and cautiously looked around, searching for the culprit.

Then a slender armored figure in deep purple armor landed next to him. It was equipped with a gauntlet of hardlight around its right hand and a plasma pistol in its left. It holstered the pistol, and reached for the helmet, taking it off with a hiss of air.

Vado 'Mavamee's eyes widened in recognition. A Prelate, one of the Covenant's holiest warriors, standing before him.

"Thank you, Shipmaster. I couldn't have done this without you." The female San'Shyuum said, standing straight in a form-fitting suit of armor, her head taller than him.

"You… you are a Prelate!" The shipmaster said, immediately falling to his knees and bowing. "I am not worthy of being in the presence of one. Please forgive me for being unclean with sin!"

"Rise, Shipmaster. I may have been enhanced by the gene-forges of the Ministry of Preparation, but I am no Prelate." She offered a hand to pull him up to his feet. "My name is Len'Vellana, daughter of the vice Minister of Preparation. You helped me today, so let me help you find the T'Vaoan you've been looking for."


	22. Chapter 22: Battle for New Milan: Part 1

**1900 hours, May 10, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
UNSC Everest, Battlegroup X-ray, New Ghent system**

Admiral Preston Cole was getting tired of waiting. Every single day he was here meant one less day spent fighting the Covenant and more lives lost. It was starting to drive him up the wall. The news that the derelict on New Ghent was contaminated had done little to improve his mood.

Going by Dove's calculations, it was going to be ten days or so before the diplomats would arrive. But GOLDEN FLEECE was a simple protocol. He -had- to guard the wreckage, and was forbidden from leaving the ruined battlecruiser unattended under any circumstances barring a breach of the Cole Protocol.

The turians and salarians had been very forthcoming when it came to the battlecruiser, and they had been guiding select detachments of ODSTs and engineering personnel of his fleet to make ready for the scientists that were coming. They had also been sending regular updates about the recovery operations on the battlefield and reports about what their scientists were recovering. He couldn't make heads or tails of it, but Dove was cataloguing it regardless.

The turians had continued constructing their logistical support stations throughout the system. They finished setting up refueling stations in the gas giant's orbit, and were now establishing smaller, heavily defended depots on damn near every body in the system. His eyes fell on something the aliens were constructing around the planet closest to New Ghent's sun; they had set down massive structures both upon the planet and in orbit around it.

"Dove, scan Gelabon. What are they doing on its surface?"

Dove froze up for a second as he processed the request. "They appear to be setting up some sort of infrastructure on the planet's surface. The heat and power emissions given off do not seem to coincide with a fusion reactor."

"Ensign Clovis, get me a connection to the turian flagship."

The young ensign nodded. He was a loyal sailor, and he was absolutely devoted to Cole. Cole had asked for him to be assigned to the Everest purely as part of the preparations for his "retirement plan", but that didn't mean he was unskilled. This was just an additional bonus to the young man's skills.

Clovis pressed a few buttons on his console and then nodded to Cole. "Connection established."

The viewscreen changed to show the Primarch, standing at attention on the bridge of his ship. Cole spoke up in his most diplomatic voice, which was still a far cry from actually diplomatic. "Primarch Fedorian, my ships are detecting power surges and unexplained heat emanating from the structures you've put up on Gelabon, the planet closest to the star. May I ask what you are constructing there?"

The Primarch nodded. _"We are building particle accelerators and antimatter refineries to fuel our spaceships. Because of the large fleet presence, antiproton capture around the gas giant doesn't cover our needs, so we're setting up an operation on Gelabon. Apologies for the concern it might have caused."_

Cole perked an eyebrow at that. Antimatter was incredibly volatile, which meant that it had largely been discarded as a potential fuel for UNSC ships due to the difficulty of keeping it contained. Some small private ships, mostly yachts, used antimatter drives, possibly some ONI prototypes as well, but no UNSC warships he knew of used antimatter for propulsion. Perhaps these aliens had better containment technology? The ease with which they seemed to manipulate gravity or be able to create singularities with man-portable weapons seemed to imply that their gravity control was formidable.

"Thank you for the confirmation." The admiral answered. "How are your construction efforts going? Any assistance we might be able to lend?

"We'll soon be able to use this system as a logistics node to support our operations against the Covenant. Our scouts have not yet discovered any other UNSC or Covenant vessels in surrounding systems."

Obviously you haven't. New Ghent is the most remote colony left in this part of the UNSC space, and most habitable worlds around it were burned years ago. You'll be looking through dozens of systems if you don't know where to look. Cole thought to himself.

"Our envoys will arrive in seven days or so, and we can formally establish our alliance. Until then, I am unfortunately unable to disclose the location of any of our hidden worlds. I am sure you understand."

The Primarch nodded slowly, but his body language seemed to radiate annoyance, if Cole read it correctly. "We understand. We're using this time to set up our beachhead in this galactic arm. Once fully operational, we can provide military assistance to any human system within fifty light years of New Ghent. When we join you formally, we could reinforce your entire frontline simultaneously"

Cole grit his teeth. That gave them access to damn near half the UNSC worlds left, including Reach and Earth. If they were truthful about their capabilities, they could hit Earth before any UNSC ships could warn the planet. He had to keep a plan in place for that contingency, no matter how unlikely it appeared to be.

Dove popped up on his holographic display.

"Admiral, a new asari ship just jumped into the system, it claims to be carrying our observers. They are sending us a message."

"Let's hear 'em, then, Dove." Cole said. He was eager for some good news.

There was a pause.

"_This is Lieutenant Franklin O'Connell. I am pleased to report that the state of the refugees on Telvanis is exemplary, Admiral. I am transmitting our logs as we speak. The place looked better than most Outer Colonies in their prime, and the people looked happy and well fed. We received a full tour of the planet, and we have little if any negativity to report. It was quite hard to leave, to be honest._"

Cole felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. It was looking more and more likely that these new aliens were actually speaking the truth.

"Well done, Lieutenant. I'm sending a dropship to pick you up for a medical and a full psych evaluation."

"Looking forward to it, Sir."

Dove's avatar suddenly flashed red. "Captain, unknown ship coming out of slipspace. It's transmitting a civilian transponder on emergency channels."

_"This is the UNSC Guaranteed Fresh. We have taken damage and are leaking atmosphere. We have civilians aboard. We're fleeing the destruction of New Milan. We're just a cargo vessel. We need immedi- HOLY SHIT! " _The transmission suddenly cut off, presumably when the captain saw the Citadel fleet.

Cole immediately grabbed the reins before anyone could do something stupid. "Ensign Lovis, get me that ship on the horn. Now!"

"Already on it, Captain."

"UNSC Guaranteed Fresh, this is UNSC Everest Actual. Do not be alarmed, these other ships belong to an independent coalition of races also at war with the Covenant. We are currently engaged in diplomatic talks with them. What is your situation? What happened to New MIlan?" Admiral Cole asked hurriedly. New Milan was the breadbasket of more than a dozen other planets, both in the Inner and the remaining Outer Colonies. If it fell, there would be a famine.

"I trust the Cole Protocol was followed during your escape. Did you head here on purpose?"

_"Yes, Admiral Cole. We thought New Ghent would be safe. We hadn't received word anything happened here." The voice of the freighter captain was filled with an embarrassing amount of awe for Admiral Cole. So much in fact that Cole had to restrain himself from calling the man out on it._

"Take up position in our formation. I'll scramble a force to head to New MIlan. What's the situation there?"  
_  
"The Covenant found the system and we immediately began evacuation. When we left, they were skirmishing with the local garrison, but we couldn't see who was winning."_

Cole cursed under his breath. If he headed for New Milan and left the fallen battlecruiser unprotected, he'd be breaking GOLDEN FLEECE and be in a heck of a lot of trouble. It'd give his enemies an excuse to court-martial him, although he was not sure they'd be able to do that without public outcry. As he thought of a way to help New Milan, an idea started to form in his head. A way to save New Milan as fast as possible, and to ascertain the true intentions of the Citadel.

New Milan needed to be reinforced, but it didn't have to be him. Cole Protocol did not apply to a system which had already been discovered by the Covenant. And the Citadel was eager for locations of known combat theaters. Their ships were also faster than his by a large margin. They could get to New Milan in a day.

"Get me the Primarch!" Admiral Cole ordered Ensign Clovis, who complied, entering something on his console..

Cole spoke up. "Primarch, the ship that just entered the system is a refugee ship from another world of ours, which is under attack by the Covenant. I can not give you the coordinates for any of our hidden worlds-"

"But you can give me the coordinates of the one under attack." The Primarch finished. "Send me the location data, and I will deploy the salarian fleet immediately. Their ships are the fastest in the fleet, and they'll want to try out their new technology and weapons systems against the Covenant."

Cole nodded at Dove. "Send them the data."

The AI nodded. "Done."

The Primarch looked distracted for a moment, looking at something off screen. "I'll send a fleet immediately. Thank you, Admiral Cole. I hope this can prove our trustworthiness to you."

Cole smiled at the viewscreen. It was a rare happy smile. "If you save New Milan, you'll have half the Inner Colonies owing you their meals for a year."

**2100 hours, May 11, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
ONI prowler Circumference, New Milan system**

The Covenant had come, and New Milan would burn.

Aboard the_ Circumference_, John-117 looked at the viewscreen, at the Covenant fleet that had invaded the system. He was calculating the odds in his head, and they weren't good.

The UNSC forces in the system consisted of four Marathon-class cruisers, six aging Halcyon-class cruisers, forty Paris-class frigates and a smattering of hastily armed civilian freighters and pirate-hunting corvettes, stuffed with nuclear weapons to be used as fire ships.

Facing them were a CAS-class carrier, three CCS-class battlecruisers, four CPV-class destroyers and twelve CRS-class light cruisers. The only ships the Covenant had lost so far were another carrier, and their DAS-class storm cutter escorts after a daring assault by the UNSC forces defending the system.

The first Covenant invasion of New Milan, a month ago, had managed to land a massive army on the surface as they engaged the UNSC garrison in the system. For the last three weeks, the fighting had gone back and forth. The Covenant fleet had destroyed the garrison, only for a UNSC reinforcement fleet to arrive and drive off the Covenant and land their own forces on the planet.

Then another Covenant fleet linked up with the Covenant survivors from the previous waves and drove the UNSC away, deploying another ground force. The only thing holding off their glassing of the planet was the threat of an attack by the remaining UNSC ships in the system, as well as whatever machinations drove the Covenant military.

The UNSC battlegroup Blue Team had been with was just another fleet thrown into the grinder. When they'd arrived, the Covenant and UNSC forces still in the system had whittled each other down to less than ten ships each, all damaged. The Covenant had cut anchor and ran, but before the battlegroup could get into position to provide orbital fire support to the armies clashing on the surface, another Covenant fleet had arrived, the largest so far.

Now it was fifty against twenty. The UNSC had occasionally won battles like that, hadn't they? John hadn't been part of a space battle the UNSC won for what felt like a decade. His Blue Team had boarded and taken out a fair share of Covenant ships, but always on the outskirts of battle or against opportunity targets.

"Captain, if you let me deploy Blue Team, we can take out the carrier, and our fleet might stand a chance." John said to Captain Exaviel, the captain in charge of the prowler carrying Blue Team.

The prowler captain shook his head. "Too risky, Spartan. This isn't an isolated carrier with its shields down. This is a carrier with escorts, in the midst of a battle, with its shields up. I'm keeping you in orbit to assist whichever unit on the ground needs a Spartan team the most."

John grimaced inside his helmet. He'd hated space warfare since the war started. On the ground he could win, he could beat the Covenant. But too often he and Blue Team were recalled because the Covenant won the battle in orbit and were moving in to begin glassing, and by all metrics, the same was going to happen here. If only they'd had booster frames. They'd have been able to board the carrier then.

The ensign manning the sensor station spoke up. "Captain, I am detecting new signatures arriving in the system. No signs of them leaving slipspace; no tau bursts, no radiation, Oh my god, there's more than a thousand of them, most of them corvette or frigate size."

Dread gripped John's heart. Just the thought of a fleet that big rampaging through the Inner Colonies was enough to cause concern. They might not be able to match UNSC ships with their size, but what would happen if they got deep enough behind UNSC lines and hit the vital supply lines keeping the UNSC war machine and the colonies fed?

"Captain, we need to get to FLEETCOM and inform them of this fleet." John told the prowler captain.

"You don't need to tell me twice, Sparta-"

"The new ships have opened fire on the Covenant!" The ensign yelled, everyone turning to look at him.

"Show me." The captain ordered sternly.

The Circumference did not have an AI due to logistical shortcomings, and the crew had to do everything themselves. There was a short pause before the image on the viewscreen was magnified, showing in detail what was happening.

The Covenant fleet was wreathed in fire as what had to be thousands of small magnetically accelerated rounds impacted all across the shields. The individual projectiles were weak, but that didn't matter with the sheer volume of fire the newcomers were capable of.

Then the Covenant returned fire.

_Combat Information Center, Turian Hierarchy dreadnought Titan's Might_

"Look at the size of that ship!" A sensors officer yelled as the dreadnought's spinal cannon fired, the deck shaking under their feet..

"Stay calm." Fleet Admiral Karandis commanded sternly. As the only admiral who'd faced the Covenant so far, he'd been put in charge of the fleet sent to relieve New Milan, although the fleet was an equal mix of all Council races. The salarians and asari had wanted to try their new weapons in action and insisted they join the first battle.

The massive size of the enemy ships concerned him to no end, but he had a thousand ships to throw at the enemy. Let the strategists and intelligence experts analyse the ship sizes in more detail afterwards; he had a battle to win.

"Asari flagship down!" The sensors operator called out. "Some sort of extreme range energy weapon. It instantly punched a hole through the ship!"

Karandis cursed. The tactic of staying at range did not matter if the enemy could just pick away at the largest ships of his fleet, no matter the range.

The battle had started well: recon probes had mapped out the locations of the Covenant ships, allowing the Citadel Expeditionary Force to jump into positions all around the enemy fleet and open up on every single ship simultaneously, at close range with mass accelerators, and nuclear torpedoes. They'd managed to inflict heavy damage to the shields and almost instantly obliterated all the smaller CRS-class Covenant ships in the first minute of the engagement.

Then the capital ships returned fire, unleashing weapons whose effective range far outranged the other covenant ships the Citadel had fought.

Massive plasma beams lanced out from the cruisers and instantly burned through dreadnoughts, or scythed through entire formations of lesser ships.

"Salarian flagship just took a grazing hit from a plasma beam. She is disengaging!"

The worst killers were the Covenant's guided plasma torpedoes. Once one was locked on, the only way to dodge it was with an FTL jump, and if that happened, the torpedoes oftentimes just switched to another target.

It was difficult to get good sensor readings of the Covenant ships due to sustained mass accelerator impacts causing the shields to grow a bright white, the energy release interfering with sensors

Dozens of ships were going down each second in the bloody battle, as streams of plasma projectiles, pulse lasers, and plasma torpedoes crossed the void, with the Citadel ships firing back from extreme ranges and performing pinpoint FTL jumps to avoid plasma torpedoes.

The Covenant destroyers were being engaged by the salarian fleet, while the asari were attacking the battlecruisers with everything they had. The carrier was under attack by every ship the turians had sent.

The shields of two Covenant destroyers went down from the sustained bombardment, and opportunistic salarian drone frigates and drone fighters dove in for the kill, taking heavy losses from point defense fire that wiped out whole attacking squadrons, only for the fighters to release disruptor torpedo swarms at close range. With the shields down, the torpedoes could punch deep into the ships, taking out weapons systems or puncturing the plasma reactors.

The frigates meanwhile launched large nuclear missiles that were slung under their hulls. These modified planetary bombardment warheads would be too slow to be of use against ships capable of instantly going to FTL, something that was beyond the Covenant's ability. With the enemy destroyers crippled by disruptor torpedoes, the nuclear warheads finished off the wounded ships.

The salarians proceeded to unleash their new ultraviolet frequency GARDIAN lasers on the swarms of fighters the Covenant ships hurriedly launched to attack them. Purple beams shot across the void, pinpoint high accuracy fire burning seraphs to slag with repeated hits. When the fighters went down, the beams switched to the remaining covenant ships, melting anything that stood out from the hull.

Good. The salarians are doing well. Karandis thought inwardly.

The asari attack on the battlecruisers began with the asari fleet concentrating its fire on a single ship at a time, quickly burning down the shields with mass accelerator fire from the dreadnoughts and cruisers, while fighters launched from the dreadnoughts and cruisers to deliver their own nuclear payloads. Nuclear fireballs blanketed the Covenant ships. Shields exploded, leaving the ships open to mass accelerator rounds from the asari dreadnoughts, which punched holes clean through them. This was followed by remote-controlled frigates laden with warp bombs exploding in close proximity to the Covenant ships, the reality-bending fields ripping large chunks from their hulls.

Karandis grit his teeth as the casualty reports streamed in. The salarians had lost three dozen ships in what felt like moments, but thankfully most of them were VI-controlled fighters operating in wolf packs. But they had still lost a dreadnought and ten cruisers, with a fifth of the fleet taking pulse laser damage in one form or another. The salarian ships trailed streams of ablative material as they moved through the void. The mass effect compressed Silaris armor was proving effective enough at absorbing an occasional laser hit, but survival was still a gamble.

The asari had suffered fewer total ship losses. Still, they'd lost their two dreadnoughts, ten frigates and five cruisers.

Things were starting to heat up aboard the Titan's Wrath. They'd taken multiple pulse laser hits, and although the ablative armor had held, the heat was playing havoc with multiple major systems.

"Split the remainder of our forces and assist the asari and salarians in taking out the smaller ships. We need everyone to fire on that behemoth at the same time!" Karandis ordered.

The carrier was a monster, six kilometers long and lashing out at all around it with those energy beams, plasma torpedoes and batteries upon batteries of pulse lasers. Even at extreme range, the ship had enough firepower that it didn't even have to aim once it concentrated on a particular sector of space. Every plasma beam was another dreadnought or cruiser lost and one less shot before Karandis' flagship was taken out as well.

"Activate FTL and dodge the moment their plasma beam charges up again." Karandis ordered. "We can't afford to take the hit."

"Human ships are moving in, Admiral." His communications officer Ger Letanis piped up.

Fifty-four massive rounds slammed into the underside of the massive ship. The Covenant fired plasma torpedoes and pulse lasers at the incoming projectiles, but over forty slugs still hit. The shields collapsed in a beautiful explosion of blue light, followed by the projectiles tearing large chunks out of the hull. The ship began to break apart in a series of internal detonations.

Then a hundred large, arrowhead-shaped black fighters followed, breaking off and heading to attack the wounded Covenant ships. Massive nuclear fireballs lit up the crippled enemy ships and turned them into so much molten slag.

Karandis breathed a sigh of relief as the fighting ended. It felt like the most hectic three minutes of his life. "Initiate contact with the human ships and transmit the message their admiral sent us. They're going to want to know what we're doing here."

Karandis went over the events of the battle in his head, and the new weapons they'd tested. Missiles with nuclear warheads while too slow to hit anything other than a dreadnought at the best of times, would prove quite effective against the much larger Covenant ships. Silaris armor could turn a killing plasma bolt or pulse laser impact into a survivable hit. But did nothing against a plasma torpedo. Warp bombs could be turned into effective anti-ship weapons when detonated closely.

He quickly began writing his thoughts down and prepared to send it to the war council of the Citadel Expeditionary Force.


	23. Chapter 23: Battle for New Milan: Part 2

**2101 hours, May 11, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
ONI prowler Circumference, New Milan system**

John-117 looked at what was happening and couldn't believe what he was seeing. An alien armada had just jumped unannounced into the New Milan system and was destroying the Covenant invasion fleet. In the first minute the Covenant had lost their escort ships, and their numbers were already dropping precipitously.

The UNSC forces which had already been moving to engage the Covenant had changed course and were now heading directly for the Covenant carrier, firing every weapon available at the only Covenant ship that still had shields. Then forty MAC rounds hit the shields, the resulting release of energy collapsing them, and tore the ship into large chunks as the rounds broke up or punched through.

The battle had lasted but four minutes, but to John, it had felt like an hour. He was taking particular note of -how- the newcomers' ships moved, to gauge the personality of their crews. There seemed to be three parts to the new alien armada.

One engaged at medium range in a standup fight, using both the spinal guns on the big ships and the broadsides of the smaller but more numerous ships, concentrating their fire on the carrier. There was little finesse, merely spreading out their forces and aiming to land their hits on a surface as large as possible to overstress the shielding.

He imagined this species must be determined. Digging in and taking hits, while dishing out just as much.

The ships in the second group had more curved hulls, reminding him somewhat of flatter Covenant Phantoms, but without the stark color difference between the armored top and the weaker underside. These engaged at range, using lasers and kinetic projectiles to take down the shields, then sent in fighters and frigates to close the distance at high speed before unleashing their nuclear weapons to finish the job.

This species seemed to be slippery, but possessed of great strength and finesse; a fighter who'd dance around his opponent, then drop them with a devastating strike.

The third group he couldn't get a read on. Their ships looked more like ornate objects of art than actual warships, although their firepower was nothing to scoff at, being the strongest of the three fleets present. The holes through the ship must have served a purpose John could not determine, but he wondered if they could somehow pivot around the ball of energy they seemed to generate inside.

They also engaged at range, like the first group, but instead of using nuclear weapons they just continued hammering the enemy ships with long-range fire. He'd noticed their main cannons did more damage to the Covenant armor, and the larger ships could shoot straight through when firing from 'above'. The ornate ship design, he thought, was therefore meant to show off wealth or power.. As the Covenant ships lost their shields the newcomers had deployed what appeared to be kamikaze ships loaded with monstrously powerful gravitic weapons, which seemed to shear large chunks of hull away. They also fired torpedoes possessing the same spatial-warping effect which dug deep into the hull and wreaked havoc inside.

He imagined these people were long ranged fighters who only got close when they needed to, but were nonetheless quite good at it.

Captain Exaviel was equally dumbstruck, then snapped out of it. "Master Chief, our prior orders still stand. We'll deploy you and your team to take out the Covenant orbital defense cannons so the reinforcement fleet can deploy the Marines safely."

The communications officer piped up. "We are receiving a transmission from the unknown ships. Sir! It has Admiral Cole's encryption and identification codes. EWAR says it's clean. Playing it now."

The voice of the legendary admiral came from the communications console. "This is Admiral Preston Jeremiah Cole. I am transmitting this message to the Citadel Expeditionary Force, formally requesting their assistance in the New Milan system. To all UNSC forces who might be listening: these aliens have saved the colony of New Ghent and are to be considered our allies against the Covenant for the time being. You will allow them to provide assistance in both space and ground operations against the Covenant."

"Verify that again." Captain Exaviel commanded. "Surely it's a fake."

"I believe the results speak for themselves, sir." John-117 said. "The Admiral's orders are clear. These aliens won the battle in orbit for us. Now it's time for us to win the ground war."

"Agreed, Master Chief. Get your team into the drop pods. We'll wait for the perfect opportunity to deploy you."

John-117 saluted the captain and marched towards the drop bay.

The Circumference had been modified to experiment with prowler-launched drop pods for Spartans, and Blue Team would be deploying this way for the third time now. Every other deployment so far had resulted in the Spartans dropping and then extracting when the Covenant began glassing.

Third time's the charm. Right? He thought to himself.

-  
**  
UNSC Marathon class cruiser Rotterdam**

Vice Admiral Karil looked at the new arrivals with a sense of apprehension. They had most likely saved his fleet from the Covenant carrier and its overwhelming destructive power with their sudden arrival, but being so outnumbered and outgunned by an alien power still rubbed him the wrong way. Still, Admiral Cole's message had been confirmed as authentic by every single EWAR suite and AI in the New Milan system.

He transmitted across an open channel towards the alien fleet. "I do not know who you are, but I'm not turning down anyone who shows up with a thousand ships and helps me destroy a Covenant ship. Can you provide ground support to our army on the surface?"

His communications officer, France Powell, spoke up. "We're receiving a transmission on an UNSC channel. Unencrypted. Putting it on viewscreen."

An undeniably alien face appeared on the viewscreen. It was a large avian-looking alien, most of its grey skin covered by darker, metallic-looking plates. It had two mandibles that it seemed to be clicking. "This is Admiral Karandis. We are able to deploy strike forces groundside. What is the situation on the planet?"

It felt fundamentally -wrong- to provide an alien with intelligence about a surface battle, but that was exactly what was happening. "New Milan has a single supercontinent, and the Covenant have landed in the north. There's a mountain chain in the middle of the continent they are trying to cross. If they do, millions will starve."

The alien nodded. "We'll land strike teams to take out their anti-orbital weaponry. The rest we'll keep in reserve until you ask for them."

"Understood."

-

John-117 walked into the converted drop bay of the prowler, where Blue Team was performing their final equipment checks and discussing the upcoming mission.

"Think we can trust these aliens?" Kelly-087 asked across their team's communication channel, as she cleaned her M6D sidearm with a piece of cloth and then began examining her M45 shotgun. It was a rugged, dependable model, tough enough to be used as a club and still be able to fire afterwards. He'd seen her beat an Elite to death with one, and then unload the remaining rounds into a pack of grunts without a hiccup.

"Admiral Cole has vouched for them." Fred-104 said. "If he vouched for a Brute, I'd listen." He was examining the sights of his BR55, testing the fire selector as well as the new sights he'd added.

"And it's not like we have much of a choice." Linda-058 chimed in. "They outnumber us, remember, even if individually their ships are weaker. Did you see how they took on the carrier? It was like piranhas swarming a bull." Linda said, examining each 14.5×114mm APHE round and discarding any with the slightest imperfection. Linda refused to use any ammunition that wasn't the best for Nornfang.

To a normal UNSC squad, this kind of banter would be a serious breach of communications protocol. But they were Spartans; they knew when to talk to share information, and when to be silent and focus on the task at hand. John took his preferred weapon from the armory rack - an MA37 assault rifle with an underslung M301 40mm grenade launcher, and two M7/Caseless submachine guns in case they came up against a Grunt swarm.

"In the end, none of this will matter if we don't stop the Covenant. Fifty million people have been killed since the invasion began, and twenty million still live in the farmland to the south of the Alessandro mountain range, with many millions more missing or evacuated. We'll be deploying from orbit to take out Target Alpha, the most isolated Tyrant-class anti-orbital weapon. If we take it out, the navy can drop the ODSTs behind the Covenant advance. If possible, we'll proceed on foot or in captured transport and widen the gap in their orbital defences. Understood?"

Three green lights lit up on his HUD.

Kelly finished inspecting her weapons and placed them in her assigned drop pod. "They've been fighting for almost a month down there. Fighting for the cities is going to be like Harvest all over again."

John thought back to Harvest. It had been the second time he saw a Spartan die. Daisy-023 had fallen to the Covenant there - the second Spartan to die after Sam. John-117 had fought his way through a small Covenant army after receiving her last transmission, and when he'd found her, he'd put her necklace in her hand, closed her eyes, and activated her armor's self destruct.

Daisy had been one of the few to reject induction into the SPARTAN-II program, and one of the most difficult to manage. Easily the most emotional Spartan, she'd on more than one occasion threatened bodily harm when her temper ran high in the heat of battle. She'd never said what had made her return, but at least she had come back. Oscar-129 and Felix-123 had never returned after their escape. He sometimes wondered what had happened to them. Were they still hiding out there? Or had they been killed by the Covenant by now?

As the war dragged on, he hoped they'd show themselves again. They needed every Spartan in the fight.

"It's only been a month down there. Not the five years of hell on Harvest. We've got orbital control. Without their Tyrants, we can nuke them off the planet. " Fred said, stowing his own gear in his pod and climbing inside.

John looked at his own command pod, specifically the Havok tactical nuke stowed in an overhead compartment. It was the last one the Circumference had left. Normally they would have had another half a dozen nukes to use, but the effects of the war on supply lines and the loss of many outer colonies had left the UNSC's nuclear stockpile dangerously depleted. They were using nukes faster than they could build them. And even if the Spartans had priority, a supply depot couldn't give nukes it didn't have.

He climbed into his pod, secured himself and closed the hatch.

The alarm indicating an impending drop went off, red warning lights turning on. In thirty seconds, the system would start pumping the air out of the compartment, and their drop pods would be prepped for release.

-

"Admiral. This is ridiculous. We're working with aliens now?" General Milosovic, the commander of the UNSC Army forces on New Milan, angrily stated over their communications line. "You can't expect my men to fight alongside aliens they have no idea about."

"General, we don't have the luxury to look a gift horse in the mouth. And in any case, their fleet is already moving into position to launch shuttles. Now, unless you want humanity to be in -two- interstellar wars instead of one, I suggest you give the order to your men to -not- shoot them. Unless you want to disobey an order from Admiral Cole himself?"

Karil continued. "Their general has convinced me they'll focus their attacks on the enemy orbital defenses, as well as the least secure mountain passes. With their Tyrant guns down, I can provide ortillery support and we can drive the Covenant from the planet. We're focusing on Target Alpha so as to open a hole in their orbital defenses I can launch ODSTs down."

"I'll send the message." General Milosovic nodded. "But I can't guarantee there won't be any incidents. My men are jumpy, hungry, and worn out."

"Then we'll deal with that later, general."

-

_Three._

_Two._

_One._

_Drop._

The pods containing the Spartans launched from the Circumference. John felt the pod shake as it fell through the atmosphere.

Through the viewscreen in front of him, he could see the shattered remains of the UNSC armies that had already tried, and failed, to defend New Milan. Destroyed tanks, armored personnel carriers, downed fighters and gunships, Pelicans as far as the eye could see, and even the wrecks of three Vulture gunships. He grit his teeth. Those were exceedingly rare as the war progressed. The Vultures would be hard to replace.

"Prepare for course correction on my mark. Current LZ is too hot." John-117 said. "We'll land on that ridge to the west of Target Alpha. Sync to my pod. Maneuver on my mark."

Three green lights lid up on his HUD.

The pod began to shake harder.

"Mark." He said, the four pods immediately diverting to head for the small ridge.

All their chutes deployed, except for John's. He quickly pressed the button for the emergency chutes, which released safely.

"Blue-One. You're using your emergency chutes. Are you alright?" Kelly asked.

"Confirmed. Primaries failed. Rocket burn in five. Brace for impact."

Three green lights lit up on his HUD.

Then the retro-rockets kicked in, slowing their descent.

"Confirm rocket ignition."

Three green lights blinked again.

Then the pods slammed into the ground, throwing up explosive bolts activated and the hatch of the Master Chief's pod flew off its hinges. He retrieved his weapons, as well as the Havok tactical nuke, and stuck them to the magnetic locks on his armor, the nuke fitting snugly on his lower back.

He looked down from the ridge, quickly examining the Covenant defenses around Target Alpha. A Type-38 anti-orbital cannon, also known as the Tyrant, with two more under construction nearby, the closest just around two hundred meters away. Each of them could destroy a UNSC frigate in a single shot.

Standard complement of Covenant guards. A large group of Grunts roughly forty strong, ten Jackals, five Elite Minors and a single Major. The defenders were only just starting to respond to their arrival. They wouldn't be given the chance.

"Blue-Four, take out the Elites. Blue-Two, take out the Jackals and the Elite with carbines. Blue-Three, with me. We're going in for a close assault."

Once again, three confirmation lights lit up on his HUD.

John, Kelly, and Fred sprinted down the ridge at over fifty kilometers an hour, opening up with their weapons at the six-second mark. Their aim was impeccable, .

Four shots rang out, and four Elites collapsed, headless. Linda's handiwork.

Kelly emptied her M5D pistol into the Grunts advancing on them, each shot being a perfect headshot.

Fred took cover behind a large rocky outcropping, firing his DMR, precise shots taking out Jackal after Jackal and forcing the remaining Elite Minor into cover, only for Linda to take the Minor's head off when she'd reloaded.

John took aim at the Elite Major and fired his underslung grenade launcher, hitting the alien in the chest and knocking him back, then switching to fully automatic fire and clearing a path through the remaining Grunts.

Kelly was the first to close the distance to the Major, firing her shotgun as she charged him at the speeds only she was capable of. Her first shot finished off the Elite's shields, the second ravaged his chest, and the third, point blank one, blew his brains out.

John's mission clock read twenty-five seconds after landing.

Kelly formed up at the entrance to the Tyrant's base, taking cover to the right of the doorway, with John getting into position on the left. They nodded to each other and entered, keeping an eye on their motion trackers as they moved. There was nobody left inside.

Kelly took a pack of plastic explosive from one of her equipment pouches and put it on the power core.

"Two minutes." John said.

He activated his comms. "Two minutes until the gun goes down. Take any Jackal shields you can find. Special Materials has been asking for more. After that, we'll head for the unfinished Tyrants and destroy them before they become operational."

Confirmation lights lit up on his HUD again.

We made a gap in their defenses. Now it's time for the ODSTs to force it open. John thought to himself.

Linda spoke up over the comms. "Four Ghosts heading to your position."

An idea immediately formed in John-117's head. "Blue-Four, take out their drivers."

Four shots rang out in the distance.

"Transportation secured."

John looked up to see the first ODST drop pods heading through the gap Blue Team had created.


	24. Chapter 24

**2120 hours, May 11, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)**

**Northern plains, Covenant-occupied territory, New Milan**

Blue Team raced across the rocky plains of New Milan in their freshly acquired Covenant Ghosts, heading in the direction of the two Tyrant anti-orbital guns under construction.

They passed through the plasma-charred remnants of an UNSC armored company, zooming past priceless military hardware which had been reduced to so much slag.

John-117 saw the Vultures from before, bearing the telltale markings of fuel rod cannon hits, probably caused by Banshees. He'd heard the only thing coming close to a Vulture in terms of cost was a MJOLNIR suit; however, that was probably an exaggeration. This was still a loss the UNSC had trouble recovering from, though; Vultures were maintained, sure, but there were rarely any more being made.

The next were the Grizzly tanks and Cobra self-propelled railguns. At the start of the war, the UNSC would regularly deploy armored formations made up almost exclusively of these vehicles, supported by M400 Kodiak artillery and M9 Wolverine anti-air tanks. But the best of the UNSC armored forces had been bled white on Harvest, and replacements were growing increasingly hard to come by.

It was a sobering thought to think of how much less they had to fight with as the war progressed. For this kind of mission, ten years ago, each of them would have had a HAVOK tactical nuke, not just one for the entire team. He was still thinking of the best place to deploy it. If they couldn't take out the next target conventionally, he could just place the nuke and set the timer.

They were rapidly approaching the next two Tyrants, which had been built next to each other on a large plateau, with the only route up being from its north side. Any assault coming from the south would be faced with with a sheer cliff they'd have to climb. It was a good defense.

But not against Spartans. It would take any of them a minute at most to climb. With their MJOLNIR armor, they could just punch holes into the wall to use as footholds. They'd done so before on other mountainous worlds when fighting the Covenant.

John guided them into a crevice to stop and plan their next move. This would not be a straightforward assault.

"Blue Team, those two Tyrants can't be allowed to come online, but they are well-defended. I need ideas." John stated. Even he could miss the most optimal solution, and he trusted in the ability of his fellow Spartans to assist him.

Kelly spoke first. "We could set off the HAVOK at the cliff base. The blast would destroy most of the plateau, and the tyrant guns would topple over."

Linda nodded. "I saw patrols at the foot of the cliff. We wouldn't be able to plant a HAVOK without it being detected and disarmed and get out of the blast radius in time."

John nodded at Linda. "Blue-Two and Blue-Four, you're with me. We'll hit them from the the front with our Ghosts. Blue-Three will climb the cliff face and hit the Covenant from behind. Move out."

Within seconds they'd all silently mounted their Ghosts and headed out towards the Covenant base.

By the time they reached the base of the plateau, the sky had started to go dark. Excellent. Spartans excelled at night combat, whereas out of all Covenant soldiers only the Elites had night fighting equipment. This improved Blue Team's odds greatly. Kelly broke off to head for the cliff, while the others

The fighting for New Milan was starting to heat up. Massive plasma bolts shot overhead from the Covenant artillery positions to the far north, while the lances of plasma fired by the Tyrants lit up the night sky. Occasionally, they hit something, causing an explosion. The ODSTs were starting to drop en masse, and the Covenant were trying to take them out.

A quick glance at the satellite data feed from the Circumference confirmed John's suspicions. The Helljumpers had dropped behind the main Covenant army trying to break through the mountains into the unconquered parts of New Milan. They were cutting into supply lines and giving UNSC forces a chance to rally, catch their breath, and move out.

The new aliens were also making a move, coordinating their efforts with the UNSC forces planetside. They were launching shuttles and drop pods of their own from cruiser-sized ships.

"SPARTAN-117 to prowler _Circumference_. Is anyone receiving me?" He sent a message.

_"Loud and clear."_

"The new arrivals are cooperating with UNSC forces on New Milan. But my team hasn't been informed about what they are doing. We'll be needing regular updates about their actions."

_"Understood, Spartan. We'll monitor communications and inform you. Currently, the arrivals are reinforcing positions in the Alessandro mountains, as well as sending down shuttles to attack outlying Covenant defenses." _There was the sound of rustling paper._ "I'm looking through protocols for what to do in the event you come into contact with the arrivals. Normal protocol recommends elimination of non-UNSC observers. However, Admiral Cole was clear: we are to treat them as allied personnel. Stand by for further updates."_

_"Do not let yourselves be seen by them, but do not let it endanger your mission either. Good luck Spartan."_

**2115 hours, May 11, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)**

**Gamma Passage, Alessandro Mountains, New Milan**

"Incoming!"Staff Sergeant Avery Johnson yelled as he dodged an incoming plasma mortar shot, the plasma hitting a bunker; the heat of the impact set off what had to be a flamethrower fuel tank inside structure. The blast threw up shards of black silica that pelted surrounding soldiers as if a grenade had gone off.

Burning men and women ran screaming from the bunker, covered from head to toe in horrific burns. A few turned their guns on themselves, while some of the others were put out of their misery by horrified UNSC marines.. Avery did not see who did it, but he realized he had to rally the men.

"Listen up!" He yelled."Now, I know you're scared. Scared because they got all kinds of fancy weapons, and they aint afraid to use them. Well. When I was a lad, we didn't have plasma, guns, or bullets. We had sticks! And rocks! And we had to share the rock!"

"I don't care who you are, or where you come from. Because right now, we're the unlucky sons of bitches who have to protect fifty million people on the other side of this little pass we're guarding. And I don't know about you, but I'm not about to give one more inch of beautiful UNSC dirt to any more squid-faced split-lipped alien sons of bitches."

Johnson stood up, the soldiers around him yelling for him to get down.

"Now, are you going to sit here and cry for mommy and daddy, or are you gonna buckle up, stand your ground, and pump them full of lead!?"

"Sergeant, please get down!" One trooper yelled as plasma bolts whizzed overhead.

"What did I say, marine!?" Johnson yelled in return.

"...Pump them full of lead?" The trooper replied uncertainly. He seemed to be more scared of Johnson than anyone else.

"Damn straight!" He whirled around and pumped a cloaked Elite that was closing in on the UNSC trench full of lead with his assault rifle. The alien hit the ground as a crumpled bloody heap.

The UNSC had been fighting a losing defensive battle for a month in the narrow mountain passages and valleys that led from the Covenant landing zones to the last remaining human settlements in the south. It was brutal fighting, even by the standards of this god-forsaken war. Engineers blasted trenches and foxholes in the rock, and battles were often fought vertically, as Covenant jet troopers flew up cliffs while ODST Bullfrogs launched raids down the slope.

The Alessandro mountain range would look unrecognizable from orbit compared to how it'd looked just a month ago. Whole mountains had been glassed when the Covenant held orbital superiority to take out UNSC positions and carve paths for their armies to follow. The UNSC would send demolition teams to use nuclear excavation devices to collapse the passes, killing hundreds and thousands of Covenant troops.

While the UNSC soldiers died in their tens of thousands to hold the range, massive tank battles were fought in the foothills and in valleys and passages wide enough to field large armored forces in. The UNSC had deployed so many tactical nukes in the larger mountain passes, soldiers had to fight in radiation suits. It wasn't going to be long until Johnson's unit would have to do the same.

Avery and his squad were holding a forward trench in what had been called "Gamma Passage". It had been carved through the mountains by the Covenant's glassing beams shortly after the invasion to create another path for their army. Ten thousand UNSC Army troopers had died in the first week to hold this pass alone, and the many plasma-scorched skeletons that littered the forward slopes, bunkers and trench lines were a testament to that.

The passage consisted of a steep cliff to their right, a sharp ravine to the right, and a wide slope that led directly into the valley below. The UNSC troops had started out in the valley, slowly retreating up the slope of Gamma Passage and destroying their old positions as they did so.

Just one kilometer behind them lay Intersection Gamma, which led to five other passages like this that were similarly a part of the defensive line. If Gamma fell, so could their entire front.

The trenches and bunkers had been dug into of the glass, which was often as deadly as the covenant. He'd seen more than a few marines die horribly when hit by black glassy shrapnel.

The Covenant forces in the valley below let out a mighty roar, and began sending waves of Grunts up the slope.

Then Mount Sharpe suddenly exploded. A massive ball of white-hot fire that hurt to look at blossomed inside the mountain, nearly blowing the entire damn thing apart. Rocks, dirt, and debris flew out far and wide, raining down on Covenant and UNSC forces alike. When the sound of the explosion arrived, it was deafening, and Avery felt as if the world itself was shattered.

This was bad. Mount Sharpe, a peak with steep slopes (with exception of the southern one which was firmly under UNSC control), made for a good vantage point for target spotting. Not to mention that it allowed the defenders to put Covenant forces coming up Gamma Passage under crossfire.

And the Covenant had just blown it up.

UNSC forces had reformed, with reinforcements brought up from further up the mountain. They were setting up machine guns and other crew-served weapons, clearing bodies aside and carrying the wounded away. But they all stopped for a moment at the sight. Mount Sharpe had been vital to morale, as well as from the tactical standpoint: multiple Covenant attacks on Gamma Passage had broken when they took fire in their flanks and rear.

"Alright, soldiers!" Sergeant Johnson yelled. "The Covenant just blew up a mountain held by the Army, and now they're coming for us Marines. We are not moving an inch until the Covenant blows up two mountains. Understood!?"

"Sir, yes sir!" The marines responded.

The portable radio receiver in the trench gave off loud static. "Clear up that signal, soldier." Johnson pointed at the operator, who immediately complied.

Three missiles streaked overhead. Johnson instantly recognized what that meant.

"Nukes! Get down!" He yelled, ducking in his trench, others promptly following suit and taking cover in trenches and bunkers. Shortly afterwards, the sound of angry god erupted across the battlefield as three UNSC tactical nukes exploded in a glorious blast. Tanks were thrown through the air, while thousands of Covenant were vaporized or burnt to a crisp.

"Yeah! Take that, you split-lipped bastards!" Johnson yelled, his marines cheering at the beautiful sight of a Covenant army disappearing in nuclear fire. "You picked the wrong corps to mess with!"

Then the Covenant emerged from the dust cloud, mortally wounded, but undeterred. Johnson immediately realized the nukes had hit too far away. They'd hit the Covenant rear lines, but too much of the army in the valley proper had let out a battle cry and began to charge up the slope, their burnt, failing bodies driving them to attack with suicidal abandon.

"Hold your fire until they get close." Johnson ordered. "Controlled bursts at four hundred meters."

For the next two agonizing minutes the Covenant advanced. UNSC artillery began shelling the invaders, while pillboxes built into the cliff to the left opened up with their machine guns.

Mortars thumped, rocket launchers roared, and assault rifles and heavy machine guns thundered as the Marines opened fire. The Grunts in the first lines fell in droves, but the ones behind them just swarmed over their own dead.

Johnson fired in precise bursts, each aimed center mass. He was racking up quite the kill count: dozens of Grunts fell at his hand, before he had to reload. He had four magazines left; more if he scavenged from the dead.

The marine next to him fell, clutching a pink crystal shard jabbed in his throat. Johnson turned to look, seeing a pack of Skirmishers which managed to climb the steep incline to their left and were now firing at the UNSC soldiers from a rocky ledge.

"Bring down that ledge!" Johnson yelled at the trooper he'd seen holding an SPNKR rocket launcher, only to see her take a needler round in the eye.

Johnson took the launcher from her dead hands, took aim and fired. The rocket hit the steep ledge and brought it crumbling down in an avalanche of rock, gravel and mangled bodies. He handed the launcher to a marine who was scrounging for ammo in a fallen comrade's webbing. "Here. Early Christmas present."

"Thank you, Santa, sir!" The soldier replied sarcastically before firing the second tube into the oncoming wave of Grunts, scattering them. Dozens of creatures were blasted to bits, and many more were wounded as the crystalline shrapnel kicked up by the blast tore through them.

Johnson looked around, assessing how the line was holding. Nearly half the men at their position were dead or wounded, their bunkers had all been taken out and they were running low on ammo. Of course, there were still intact bunkers built into the cliff on their right. The weapon crews in there were doing what they could, firing at the Covenant.

Still, if they retreated, the Covenant could advance uncontested for god knew how long before the reinforcements arrived.

The sergeant pointed at Private Jenkins. "Jenkins, run down the line and tell them what's coming! Radios are down."

"Sir, yes sir!" The private hesitated for just a second, looking at his comrades, then ran as fast as he could.

The Covenant were now just over a hundred meters away. This would be a good way to die, Johnson thought. Better than being glassed.

Then Avery heard a distinct battle cry from behind. Glancing back, he could see another company of UNSC marines moving into position.

The sea of Grunts parted, revealing Elites charging at full speed through the gaps, firing their plasma rifle in precise bursts, one-handed, while wielding an energy sword in the other hand. They were followed by Grunts in black armor, carrying fuel rod cannons on their shoulders. At the same time, Phantoms provided support, concentrated fire of their plasma turrets burning through the bunkers.

Plasma mortar fire flew overhead, splashing all over the UNSC lines, cooking off stockpiled ammunition and wiping out whole squads of marines in the trenches.

Johnson cursed, and shifted his aim, unloading the remaining rounds in his rifle into the chest of an Elite that got a little too close, which failed to take down the shields.

Suddenly dart-shaped fighters flew overhead and strafed the Covenant with cannon fire, blue-tinged rounds pulping what they hit, before following up with missiles. The attack left the Covenant force disoriented for a moment.

The marines looked up, to see a flight of three boxy shuttles, each carried by four maneuvering thrusters. The side doors opened, and black armored figures leapt out without jetpacks, ten per shuttle. Johnson had no idea what was going on, nut he was definitely seeing the newcomers suddenly surround themselves in auras of blue light and slow their fall, throwing bolts of blue force that sent the Covenant ragdolling, before they shot forward like spears of blue light that exploded upon impacting the Covenant lines.

"Fucking space wizards!" One of the marines yelled. "We're being reinforced by space wizards!"

"Like the good Lord intended!" Sergeant Johnson yelled back and shot an elite whose energy shields failed in the head.

His helmet's radio came alive. "_All UNSC forces, this is HQ. Radio was disabled due to enemy Spec Ops raid earlier; COM has been now re-established. Do not fire upon the new arrivals, they are allies. I say again, they are allies! Assist them in pushing the Covenant back!_"

Avery vaulted the parapet of the trench, yelling, "Marines! With me!", and charged towards the trench line ahead, firing into the Covenant as he did. It was just thirty meters away, and enough of it was left for him to take cover in. The sergeant knew an opportunity when he saw it: as soon as he was across, he took aim at the melee in front of him, gunning down an Elite that was about to lunge for one of the "space wizards".

The new arrivals almost seemed to dance around their attackers, firing rapid-firing shotguns at close range or sheathing their arms in a blue force field that apparently allowed them to punch a hole through an Elite's torso. Suddenly they all seemed to synchronize and combined their power into a wall of force that threw the Covenant back.

The advancing UNSC reinforcements, having taken position on the slope, opened fire over the heads of the space wizards, providing them with suppressing fire.

The space wizards sprinted back while the Covenant was distracted, and with practiced ease they focused their powers and, working in groups of two, ripped open large holes - makeshift foxholes - in the ground and then jumped inside. A handful slid back into the same ruined trench Johnson and his squad were holding.

Avery nodded with approval. "Staff Sergeant Avery Johnson. Why thank you for the assist. It's not often alien mages help us out!" He smiled.

"Thank you, human." The female voice said. She reached for her helmet (Johnson could see it had been damaged) and took it off, revealing a beautiful, if blue and a bit alien, woman.

Jenkins, who had come back with the reinforcements, was about to get into cover when he saw the woman. "Holy shit. We just got saved by hot alien space babes with magic powers."

There was immature giggling amongst the soldiers.

"The Covenant are pulling back, Shiala," one of the other aliens said, sliding into cover next to the humans.

"Good, sister. Let us see about assisting these humans in preparing their defenses."

Jenkins muttered. "So… uhh.. What's going on? Who are you, what do we call you?" He looked very distracted.

"You can call us asari. We are commandos in the service of Matriarch Benezia. We have pledged our lives to her, and she has in turn sent her full force to assist humanity against the Covenant."

"How nice of you." Johnson said. "So. What do you think so far?"

The asari looked at him. "This is the most brutal war in more than a thousand years. We've lost more ships in battle since this war began than we have in the previous century. Your resistance in the face of impossible odds is commendable. Like the Krogan would say. You've got quads."

Johnson stood up to speak to the marines.

"Marines! We are the meanest, leanest, killing machines in the UNSC. And the good Lord has seen to reward us for our dutiful service kicking Covenant ass with reinforcements in the form of blue-skinned alien ladies with the power to turn a Grunt inside out with their minds. Let us all bow our heads and give thanks for this dee-vine intervention."

Johnson put his hands together in a mock prayer gesture.

"Alright. Enough prayer. We've got Covies that need to be strangled with their own guts. Amen."

"Amen." The assembled marines chorused.

The asari looked at him with a look of pure confusion, mouth agape. "I'll take that as a compliment… I think."


	25. Chapter 25

**2128 hours, May 11, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)**

**Northern plains, Covenant-occupied territory, New Milan**

John-117 slammed his commandeered Ghost through the Jackal phalanx guarding the slope, the scout vehicle running the aliens over with a satisfying crunch. . The twin plasma guns kept firing: there was no shortage of targets.

Blue Team's attack came as a complete surprise to the Covenant guarding the slope. Grunts and Jackals bumped into each other, trying to scatter and get away from the Ghosts. The unlucky ones were sent flying by the stolen reconnaissance vehicles, which drove the rest into further panic and disarray.

Having run over a pack of Grunts, John maintained maximum speed as he aimed his Ghost at the entrance to the bunker in the Tyrant closer to the top. A pair of Shade turrets opened fire, tracking him, but Linda and Fred returned fire, reducing the turrets to slag.

"Blue-Two, Blue-Four, circle around the base of the gun. I'm going in."

Two lights lit up on his HUD in acknowledgement. Fred and Linda began deftly weaving through the crowds of the Covenant, smashing through the more organized groups and killing dozens.

Master Chief drove through the entrance to the first Tyrant, crushing the Elite in his way against the structure's wall; the front of the Ghost crumpled from the impact. Having jumped clear of the vehicle, John jammed his combat knife into a Grunt's forehead, then pulled out his pistol and opened fire, clearing the control room of other Grunts. An Elite charged him with an energy sword, so the Spartan sheathed the knife and grabbed his assault rifle, firing at the alien one-handed and then, once the shields collapsed, finishing it off with a pistol shot to the head. Re-holstering the rifle,, he kicked a Grunt's plasma pistol into the air, snatching it with his now-free left hand. John kept moving, disabling an Elite Major's shields with a charged plasma pistol shot and then double-tapping him.

He could hear explosions and carnage outside, as well as the sound of fuel rod cannons firing.

"Blue Team, this is Blue-Three. I've hijacked an Anti-Air Wraith. There's a dead Elite in my gunner seat." The fuel-rod cannon fire continued. "Second Tyrant inoperative. I've melted the barrel."

Meanwhile, John was working on destroying his target. The gun hadn't been activated yet, so setting off the plasma core wouldn't work, and a satchel charge would leave too much intact. Therefore, he resorted to pulling out anything that looked important and crushing it underfoot. After this he set explosive charges and activated TEAMCOM.

"Blue-Four, relocate to an advantageous position. Blue-Two, get in the Wraith's gunner seat." His response was the sound of a plasma pistol going off, followed by two gunshots. "Blue-One, I have captured a Revenant."

A Wraith tank, a Revenant, and a Ghost would be quite useful. Their own little armored convoy.-

Suddenly, Kelly yelled over the radio. "Covenant has just deployed drop pods on our position! Spec Ops and Wraiths de-cloaking around the base. Banshees and Spirits heading our way. They knew we'd be here."

John immediately realized what happened: the Covenant must have known there were Spartans in the field due to the attack on Target Alpha, so they'd turned the most likely target into a trap.

"Can we disengage?" John asked.

"No chance, Blue-One." Fred responded. "There are snipers and Spec ops all around us. They shot my Revenant apart and are now firing fuel rod guns at Blue-Three."

"Everyone, get to me. We'll make a stand with our backs to the cliff. All things failed, we can jump off and get a head start on them."

Captain Exaviel suddenly spoke up over the radio._ "Blue Team, this is Circumference Actual. I am detecting massive Covenant forces heading towards your position. Dropships, tanks, Scarabs, and three whole Covenant legions. I am trying to scramble forces for evac, but Covenant fighters have launched from hidden airfields and achieved air superiority."_

_"We need you back at the Alessandro line. New Covenant anti-orbital guns have de-cloaked and just shot down a Marathon-class cruiser that contained a quarter of our ODST's. Our allies managed to slow their advance in the mountains, but they've brought up heavier gear in response. Scarabs, Anti-Air Wraiths and what must be a small fleet of dropships. They're blowing up whole mountains with antimatter charges to clear a path through for their forces. Stand by for updates."_

John left the Tyrant's control room and took cover behind a barricade alongside Fred. The bodies were starting to pile up as they fought to keep the Covenant at bay, and the two settled into a rhythm: John took down the Elites' shields, then Fred shot them in the head.

To deprive the enemy of cover, John threw a grenade at a Covenant power core thirty meters away. The explosion blew apart both the core and a Covenant file behind it.

The Elites were now pulling back, but that just meant a "grunt shoot", as marines called it. And indeed, as the first dropship landed in the distance, a veritable tide of Grunts with their signature suicide backpacks poured out. They'd wear the Spartans down until their ammunition ran out, which would leave them open for an attack by the elites.

"Taking too much fire. Bailing! Blue-Four, cover me!" Kelly reported, leaping out of the Wraith and ripping the plasma turret free, which she then proceeded to use as a heavy machine gun, cutting down scores of Grunts.

Linda emptied her sniper rifle from a position behind a Covenant charging station, each round taking an Elite's head off. She had taken some grazing hits, however.

John turned around to peek over the ledge to check their escape route, only to see a pair of Hunters and a pack of Jackals looking up at him, the molten wreckage of Kelly's Ghost lying between them. The Covenant had expected them to flee off the cliff.

John sent a message to Exaviel. "Circumference, this is Blue Team. We require immediate extraction. We're pinned and surrounded." He said calmly, gunning down another elite.

There was a pause, before Exaviel responded. "_The Air Force is fighting its way to you, but the Covenant Seraphs have air superiority. Admiral Karil is sending a frigate to brave the anti-orbital cannons to drop ODSTs near your position. I'm working to scramble some kind of evacuation force. I might have to ask our new friends to assist. Stand by."_

John instantly knew that the frigate in question wouldn't be surviving the drop.

"Understood, sir." John switched to TEAMCOM. "Blue Team, support is on the way."

Now they had to hold out until reinforcements arrived, and so Kelly's shotgun roared, Linda's sniper rifle sang, Fred's DMR yelled, and John's assault rifle screamed, their thunderous chorus never ceasing.

The Grunts were now upon Fred and John and were falling by the dozen, each taking two bullets in the head. The Spartans' accuracy was impeccable, but there were just too many creatures. John lobbed another grenade to thin their ranks before continuing to fire. He was starting to run low on ammunition.

John put a 40mm grenade from his underbarrel launcher into a pack of Grunts and Jackals, while Fred dual-wielded his Magnum and a plasma pistol, scoring near-perfect headshots with each.

Their cover was starting to melt under the sustained plasma fire, and John threw himself from his cover to another barricade nearby, with Fred following suit. They immediately got back to work, and any Grunt that came close quickly succumbed under crossfire. Suddenly Fred took a plasma bolt to the chest, knocked back for just a second, before resuming firing; the MJOLNIR's plating held.

At that moment the first ODST pod slammed down, crushing an energy sword-fielding Elite like a bug. The hatch flew off, and an ODST with a shotgun stepped out and shot the nearest elite in the head.

More drop pods began hitting all around the combat area, the Helljumpers coming out of their pods guns blazing. The surprise assault broke the Covenant lines; the Elites rallied and returned fire, but had lost nearly all of their previous momentum as a result. And the pods kept coming.

"Blue Team, push them back!" John ordered, picking up two plasma rifles and unloading them into a sword-wielding Spec Ops Elite that charged him. John narrowly dodged the lightning-fast thrust, grabbed the Elite's wrist, broke it, and jammed his combat knife into its eye in the same motion. He activated its plasma grenades, then threw the body into a group of Spec Ops that had just finished cutting their way through an ODST squad.

As the dust cleared,John knelt down to pick up two submachine guns dropped by the fallen troopers, and unleashed lead upon the Covenant.

Exaviel came in again._ "Blue Team, Admiral Karil has convinced our new friends to scramble stealth dropships of some kind to pick you up. Best we could arrange. Any Pelican we sent down would be destroyed."_

"Captain, I have an idea." John said, gunning down a Jackal with a short burst. "We can use the HAVOK." He emptied the submachine gun in his right hand, threw it hard enough to crack the skull of a Grunt, then took the pistol from his hip and emptied it at the shields of an Elite, forcing it into cover. "I'll arm it, and hide it in the Tyrant somewhere. Then we detonate it when we're out of range, destroying the Covenant army with it."

There was a pause. _"Authorised."_

John immediately opened a nearby Covenant charging station, placed the HAVOK nuke inside, and entered the arming code. Remote detonation via radio signal would have to do. Closing the charging station, with a punch he deformed the lock; now the station would stay closed. Then he flipped it onto its front.

Fast-moving dart-shaped fighters flew overhead at an incredible speed, too small to be UNSC or Covenant. They dropped missiles onto the Covenant massing outside and shot down incoming dropships with bursts of cannon fire.

As John looked up, he could see a UNSC frigate breaking up; it had to have been the one which dropped off the ODSTs. John felt a pang of guilt at all the lives sacrificed to save him and his team, then took that guilt and turned it into anger against the Covenant.

Sergeant Kirta felt the dropship shake as it approached the coordinates the human admiral had given them. He'd asked the Citadel forces to extract a "high value asset" and keep silent about it. The STG contingent of the Citadel Expeditionary Force had immediately agreed to the terms put forward by the human and scrambled five stealth shuttles to retrieve the humans.

A heavily modified variation of the Turian M-32 Telkis, the Selana was essentially a very stealthy flying brick, capable of deploying a squad of salarian operatives and avoiding detection by radar, lidar, or any other sensors operating in the EM spectrum thanks to the monstrously overpowered mass effect core, which meant that the thrusters weretiny in comparison. The core generated mass concentrations that the shuttle would "fall" into. This allowed them to fly without any heat emissions from the engines.

However, it didn't stop the interior from being unbearably hot, as the heat was not allowed to escape, leading to a heat buildup that made the interior feel like an air car left out in the sun for hours. Every STG agent aboard had put their helmets on and activated the internal life support in order not to deal with unpleasantly high temperatures.

Kirta inspected his Venom. it was a sturdy weapon, capable of firing VI-guided explosive micro-munitions, or, when charged, cluster micro-grenades. He and the rest of his team had been equipped with the weapon, as well as the Scorpion heavy pistol for sidearms.

Kirta didn't like this war. Too many variables, too many unknowns, too much uncertainty. The salarians preferred winning a war before it started. But sometimes that was impossible, and the STG had to use every dirty trick in the book to win.

When the human admiral had with some visible hesitation asked if the Citadel forces could discreetly extract a human strike team Kirta's unit and another STG squad were assigned to the operation. The salarian fleet had lost its dreadnoughts in the battle. But the STG never stationed its troops on dreadnoughts. Too obvious. They spread them out over multiple generic cruisers instead, and had not lost any forces in the battle.

"Approaching extraction zone. We have not been detected by electronic sensors, but we are approaching visual range. Prepare for a hot drop." The pilot spoke up.

Kirta did a final equipment check, then got ready at the egress hatch. He activated the twin automatic guns that would unfold from the overhead to provide covering fire for the drop. Unlike the turian shuttles, the STG dropship was expected to be able to provide a measure of fire support for its passengers.

The shuttles set down on the ledge that the human strike forces were guarding, then the hatches opened.

Five double gun turrets unfolded from their "standby" position and began laying down suppressive fire, causing the Covenant to pause.

The STG squads inside the first two shuttles to land leapt out and opened fire on the Covenant, providing cover so the humans could board three unmanned shuttles. The Venom micro-munitions blew gaping holes into the Covenant formation, blasting off limbs, caving in chests, or taking down shields. The STG immediately began taking losses to enemy fire, however: a quarter of second squad died to automatic plasma fire the moment the hatch opened.

The humans seemed surprised for a moment, and hesitant to approach. So Kirta yelled, "Get in, humans!" and motioned at the three empty shuttles, as the salarians spread out and provided covering fire.

One of the black-armored humans screamed, "Look how much you lot fucked up! We just had to be bailed out by aliens," then laughed as he emptied his assault rifle to suppress a Covenant position.

Then a plasma round took off his head.

Suddenly Kirta saw a fast, large human in a full suit of heavy green armor and a helmet with a large yellow visor. It seemed to flow across the battlefield, dual-wielding submachine guns and cutting down scores of the Covenant. Its movements were uncannily swift and fluid, to say the least. It reminded Kirta of an Asari commando, if the commando were pumped full of so many chemical cocktails and illegal gene-mods they'd rip themselves apart.

Was the armor a life support system? Something to keep a highly augmented and heavily drugged body from ripping itself apart? Perhaps it was fused to their body. The implications were fascinating.

But there was no time to think about that. Kirta had a job to do.

He charged his Venom and fired a spread of cluster munitions, blowing apart a Jackal shield wall.

One of the armored behemoths, one with "087" on its chest plate, turned to look at Kirta, or more specifically, his weapon. For a brief moment, Kirta was worried the thing would try to take the weapon by force. Then it took out its own shotgun and shot past Kirta, blasting a cloaked elite, who was moments from beheading Kirta, in the chest. It then threw the weapon down and reached for a pistol from a fallen human.

Kirta double-tapped another Elite who leapt to the human as it reloaded, blasting it back. Kirta quickly offered his Scorpion pistol to the human. The giant snatched it up and began laying down suppressive fire, the sticky projectiles exploding with the force of a grenade, albeit without shrapnel. It apparently liked the weapon enough, as it snatched up a second one from a fallen STG agent and began dual wielding them.

"Cloaked combatants. Deploy chaff." Kirta ordered. He set the microfabricator of his omni-tool to produce a stream of thin metal slivers, his agents following suit. The foil floated in the air, and a cloaked soldier moving through it would find it sticking to his armor. And that was what happened: Kirta saw a moving clump of foil, and shot it twice center mass, then in the head. The first two shots took down the shields, and the third blew off its head.

The humans in black body armor were dragging their wounded aboard, while the heavily armored green giants were providing covering fire. Just in time; the fabricator in Kirta's Venom was starting to run short of mass. He was going to run out of ammo if he kept this up.

He activated his omni-tool and fired an incineration blast at a feathery Jackal without a shield, setting it on fire. The thing ran away screaming, only for another of the Covenant to shoot it in the head.

Kirta climbed back into his shuttle, waiting for his squad to join him, only to see they'd been cut down by an Elite in white armor. He felt a chill go down his spine: they'd been killed so quickly he hadn't even heard anything.

One of the salarians in the dropship next to him yelled at the green-armored behemoths, while pointing at Kirta's shuttle, "Your armor is too heavy! One of you has to get in that one!"

After an awkward pause, they complied. The one who took his pistol climbed into Kirta's shuttle, dragging a wounded human with each hand, and carrying an STG agent on its shoulder, using its pauldron and helmet to keep it in place. It placed the wounded down and whirled around to empty the last pistol rounds into the head of an elite, then shoved the pistol back into Kirta's hands.

The automatic turrets stopped firing as the hatches closed, and the shuttles blasted off, near-instantly reaching supersonic speeds.

"We set up a nuclear device before we fell back. How soon will we be out of its blast radius?" John asked the salarian next to him.

"What's the yield?" the alien asked.

John hesitated before answering. "Thirty megatons." He said.

"A minute should be enough."

John made some quick mental calculations. That meant the shuttle was traveling around more than 3000 kilometers an hour if it, but he barely felt it. Impressive.

It was the only thing helping him from feeling so out of place aboard the shuttle. These were undeniably aliens, with long slender bodies, three-fingered hands and flexible limbs. His instincts and training yelled at him to kill, and it took him a conscious effort not to flinch away when one of them bumped against him when the shuttle bobbed up and down.

He activated his radio and contacted the Circumference 's captain again. "Circumference, this is Blue-One. Blue Team and ODST support safely extracted."

"Good to hear, Spartan. I trust you made it all out intact?"

"Affirmative. But revealing our existence to these aliens was a serious breach of protocol. Was there no other extraction available?" John still wondered if he might have to kill the aliens who'd saved him. He hoped not.

_"I'm afraid so, Chief. The Covenant won in the air. What's left of the Air Force is defending the airfields and landing zones for our reinforcements."_

John felt his gut clench. He'd thought the battle for New Milan won already. "Captain, how bad is it?"

_"All ODST forces deployed through the gap in their orbital defenses were wiped out by Elite Spec Ops and Rangers. And we're being pushed back on most fronts, even with our allies reinforcing our positions."_

"How?" John inquired.

"According to satellite data, the Covenant have been hiding massive forces under cloaking fields or in underground bunkers. After shooting down the Utrecht they wiped out the ODSTs in the landing zones, as well as forcing our new allies to break off their own orbital insertions."

_"No easy way to say it, Spartan, but the orbital assault failed. And Command has forbidden the deployment of large scale nuclear, chemical, or biological weaponry until the civilians are evacuated and the harvest has been shipped out. Until then we'll just have to dig in."_

It was a sobering prospect. John hadn't thought about the food situation in the Inner Colonies. He'd not eaten any food that didn't come in a tube since a wilderness survival training course that had seen him and his fellow Spartans eating insects, fruit, and any fish or wild animals they'd managed to catch. But if the UNSC was refusing to use nuclear weapons for the sake of rescuing a harvest, things had to be truly desperate.

"I understand, Captain. Where do we redeploy?" John asked.

_"You're going scarab-hunting."_

The salarian from before tapped his shoulder. John fought back the instinct to rip the arm off. "We're out of the blast radius now."

John nodded and mentally willed his Mjolnir to send the activation signal. There was a mighty roar as the HAVOK detonated, and the sattelite feed in his HUD confirmed it. The Covenant base had been consumed in nuclear fire. At least the Covenant ambushers were dealt with.


	26. Chapter 26

**2131 hours, May 11, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
Combat Information Center, turian dreadnought Titan's Wrath, in orbit over New Milan.**

"Break off, break off!" Admiral Karandis yelled as the Titan's Wrath shook violently. "What just happened!?"

"Covenant anti-orbital cannons just revealed themselves. Human ship Utrecht is going down. Ten of our own cruisers are going down as well." Ger Letanis, his communications officer, informed him.

The troop deployment was quickly turning into a disaster, as the frigates and cruisers deploying strike teams were caught with their metaphorical pants down.

"Our frigates are taking heavy losses from enemy fighters and anti-orbital cannons. They're moving out of orbit so they can jump away. The assault group reports thirty percent casualties."

"Order the orbital assault group to disengage immediately. All ships still unloading troops and supplies are to continue doing so. Have all other ships take up an extreme long range bombardment position above the northern continent. I want any Covenant force that moves between their shielded bases to have the sky fall on them."

Karandis looked at the holographic projection of the fleet, trying to get a measure of just what the Covenant's trap had cost them.

The remaining four dreadnoughts were in orbit of New Milan, unloading their cargo of soldiers and materiel onto the surface of the planet. Their GARDIAN lasers in conjunction with proximity to the human anti-air defenses made them safe from any massed Covenant fighter attacks.

Two dozens cruiser had been shot down, and the frigates committed to the failed orbital assault had taken heavy losses to Covenant fighters - fifty percent in some flotillas. Where normal fighters would have been shot out of the sky, Covenant fighters had just enough shielding and armor to reliably get close enough to the CEF frigates and disable the engines with barrages of pulse laser fire.

But he still had over over nine hundred ships. Enough to pound a world into the stone age.

Gila Setina, a young female recently assigned as the sensors officer, suddenly spoke up. "Human air forces are retreating and assuming a defensive posture"

"Scramble all fighters and have them fly interdiction to cover the humans' withdrawal. Then send a message to the human defenders, stating we'll be committing indiscriminate orbital bombardment of any Covenant forces moving out in the open between those shields." Karandis would win this battle the good old fashioned way.

The Covenant-controlled territory was nearly completely covered by anti-orbital weapons. However, the shield domes only covered the parts used by the Covenant as bases, staging areas, or airbases. The CEF would just have to besiege these domes and drag the Covenant out one by one.

"Have the salarians deploy spy satellites to relay firing coordinates to the fleet." The admiral ordered.

-

**2140 hours, May 11, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
UNSC Rotterdam, in high stationary orbit above New Milan City**

As Admiral Karil read the incoming reports of Citadel troops landing on the surface, reinforcing UNSC positions and launching their own offensives, he could see that the battle was as good as won already. But it was not going to be easy. Orbital surveillance revealed nearly a hundred shield domes, each filled with anti-orbital weapons, heavy equipment, bunkers, barricades, and thousands of Covenant soldiers. Orbital bombardment was not an option so long as the power generators keeping the shields active were operation. They'd have to be taken out one by one.

But even if they could not land forces near the Covenant positions, they could still provide orbital fire support from extreme range, which the new aliens had immediately begun moving into position to provide.

"Admiral Karil, The alien admiral is contacting us."

"Put him through." Admiral Karil said.

_"Admiral."_ The alien voice cut to the point. _"My fleet is in position to provide pinpoint orbital fire support on any Covenant forces spotted on the surface. As this is your world, I am asking for your permission to open fire."_

Karil thought about just how ludicrous this was: an alien admiral was asking for his permission to slag half a continent with kinetic bombardment. If the situation wasn't so desperate, he would be laughing about it.

"I will give the order for our forces to get into cover."  
_  
"There is no need for that. We'll commence precision bombardment at a safe distance from your troops. . If your forces hunker down, the Covenant will know what we're planning."_

Karil thought it over, then nodded. "You may fire when ready, turian."

-

"Incoming Scarab!" Johnson called out as he saw the lumbering mass of a Covenant assault walker appear on the horizon.

"What is that thing!?" Shiala asked as she unleashed a bolt of blue energy that shredded a Grunt into red mist.

"Siege engine." Johnson yelled back, throwing a grenade at the Covenant, which Shiala caught with her so-called "biotics" and guided into the open gullet of an Elite. The split-lip didn't even have time to respond to being fed a grenade before it exploded in a shower of gore.

"You're pretty good at handling my grenades." Johnson said, a sly smile on his face, then peeked out of cover to open fire at the Covenant forces advancing across the battle-scarred ground of Gamma Passage. The sheer amount of upthrown earth, rocks and destroyed vehicles allowed the Covenant a copious amount of cover.

The asari laughed. "I'm sorry human, but we can talk about mating after the battle is over." With that, Shiala conjured a blue glow around her left arm. Then she threw an upwards jab at a piece of a destroyed Wraith tank. A shockwave of force sped across the ground, and threw the wreckage and the Jackal hiding behind it into the air. A well-aimed blast from her shotgun then took off the alien's head.

Then the heavens fell on the Covenant. Dozens of projectiles glowing with the heat of reentry slammed deep into the ground, throwing up huge mounds of earth that rained down on the Covenant not outright liquefied by the impact.

Then, seconds later, another volley of projectiles hit, and another, and another.

The entire Covenant army looked like it was being consumed by the earth itself as the kinetic bombardment (or at least, what Johnson thought was kinetic bombardment) blew apart Covenant formations or buried them in churning earth.

The barrage was seemingly unending, as after half a minute of Marines and their new allies hiding in their trenches, the onslaught continued, this time sweeping north as if to chase the Covenant army as it retreated to a shielded dome in the distance.

Shiala sniffed the air, breathing in deep. "Nothing like the smell of orbital bombardment to end a battle. Don't you think?"

"Indeed." Johnson said, lighting one of his Sweet William cigars with a live Covenant plasma pistol, then taking a good tug of it. "Thank the good lord for gravity."

-

**2140 hours, May 11, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
UNSC Sector, New Milan City Starport, New Milan**

Aboard the alien shuttle, John-117 looked at the viewscreen as they flew across New Milan City towards the planetary capital's primary spaceport. Looking in some bemusement at what he saw in the city's streets.

There had to be hundreds of aliens in blue form-fitting suits of armor marching down the city's streets, while shuttles flew overhead. They marched with perfect discipline and in perfect lockstep, and that made them look like a flowing wave of blue armor. Civilians had come out of the bombardment shelters, waving flags and hanging up banners as the soldiers passed by, while police and UNSC MPs were trying to coax them back into their shelters.

The thought of humans cheering at the arrival of alien visitors was a weird concept to John, although he did not reject it outright. It was good to have some hope, and anyone who threw their ships against a Covenant fleet was welcome to join the UNSC in their struggle. Not to mention, it was very good for civilian morale to see they were not alone in the fight.

John hoped this cooperation wouldn't end here. The micromunitons used by the troops who had extracted the Spartans were quite impressive. He'd send a request to the ONI Materials Group to acquire a few of those weapons for use by Spartans.

The shuttles set down and the hatches opened, allowing Blue Team to disembark.

Officially the SPARTAN-II program didn't exist, but it was often hard to hide them from fellow UNSC soldiers, which meant that rumors had spread. The moment the shuttles landed and the Spartans disembarked, people in the landing area turned to look at them, talking in hushed whispers.

Blue Team ignored it and began to help unload the wounded and dying ODSTs onto stretchers brought by medical personnel. Many of the ODSTs had died in transit, alongside several aliens who'd been hit.

The aliens got the weirdest looks as they disembarked, assisting with moving the wounded and the dead to the edges of the landing pad before they could be moved to an infirmary. John was worried one of the locals or UNSC soldiers would lash out or cause an issue. But there was no violence. One dockworker respectfully took a dead alien from its comrade, who was clearly struggling with the weight, and placed it down in a body bag.

Captain Exaviel came in on the COM channel. _"Blue Team, this is Circumference. I've received new instructions from Admiral Karil. You're being sent to aid a counteroffensive against the Covenant. The Pelican will pick you up after the alien shuttles have left."_

"Sir. We need to rearm. We are low on ammunition."

_"This starport has an armory for the UNSC soldiers stationed there. It should have what you need._" The captain replied. _"Covenant Spec Ops has been placing signal jammers and raiding field headquarters across the planet. I'd been working to have supplies brought to you, but a Spec Ops raid attacked the ONI armory I'd contacted."_

Elite Spec Ops? In the planetary capital? The thought made John's gut clench. "What's the mission, sir?" he asked.

_"The Covenant is holed up under their energy domes, anyone stepping outisde, even single scouts, is immediately fired at by the turian fleet. You're going to take out the closest shielded dome by destroying the scarabs stationed inside."_

"Understood, sir. When do we move out?"

_"Thirty minutes. Gear up and wait at the landing pad."_

"Understood. SPARTAN-117 out." John said, then switched to TEAMCOM.

"You heard the captain. Let's get some weapons."

"How uncoordinated have things become if we have to get our own equipment?" Kelly muttered.

"Spec Ops Elites. Just a few squads could throw supply lines and communications into disarray." Linda said.

Fred nodded. "Even more so if they have those Elites in seamless red armor. Remember Operation: SILENT STORM?" He was referring to the Spartans' first large-scale operation of the war, and the last time the UNSC had attacked a Covenant world - or at least a world that far into Covenant space.

John thought about it. Most Elites he and his fellow Spartans could handle quite easily, but there were a few who were incredibly formidable and could take on Spartans on equal terms. Few Covenant were more fearsome than the elite Spec Ops.

They reached the armory and walked inside, ignoring the looks of utter shock of the resident Army troopers as the Spartans grabbed weapons, ammunition, medical equipment, and explosives. Then walked out without a word.

-

John-117 did a last minute inspection of his jetpack, tiny puffs of exhaust leaving the nozzles as he tested it. Satisfied, he strapped it to his back and stood up.

Blue Team had boarded their assigned Pelican, joined by a squad of ODST Bullfrogs. Everyone was looking over each other's straps and packs, and checked if their weapons were secured for the drop.

As Blue Team had grown to expect of the ODSTs over the years, all straps had been tightened, packs sealed with nothing that could snag onto corners, and all weapons had their safeties on.

The ODST sergeant standing at the aft end of the Pelican's troop bay, right in front of the closed ramp, began briefing his team. "Our new reptilian friends are giving the Covenant a proper orbital pounding, and killed pretty much anything that's not under one of their shielded domes. Now it's up for the ground pounders to finish this job."

"We're gonna fly through their shield, drop on the Scarabs and take them out so ground forces can approach without being destroyed. Am I understood?"

One ODST spoke up. "Sir. How the fuck are we gonna get out if we're stuck inside this dome with an army of Covies? "

"While we're attacking the Scarabs, friendly forces will attack groundside. By the time we're finished with the walkers, the footsloggers will be upon us - and the Covenant."

That seemed to satisfy most of the ODST s, and they went back to their prior passive discipline as they waited for the order to drop.

Linda activated TEAMCOM, shutting off her helmet speaker. "Most of these ODSTs probably won't survive. Scarabs are always crewed by some of the toughest Elites around." She said somberly.

"I doubt any will, Linda." John said in a brief moment of sincerity, forgoing protocol. "But many more will die if we assault this base without taking out their Scarabs."

"Blue Team. I'm uploading the locations of the Scarabs you'll be dropping on. We're splitting so each Scarab has at least one Spartan attacking it. Confirm upload."

Three green lights lit up on his HUD.

The voice of the pilot spoke up inside the hold of the Pelican. "Covenant anti-orbitals still firing into space. Prepare to drop in twenty."

The troopers inside the Pelican tensed up as they felt it begin its wide turn.

Then the ramp dropped mid-turn and the ODSTs leapt out of the Pelican, activating their jetpacks and moving into squad formations in mid-air. They were quickly followed by ODSTs from the other Pelicans.

Blue Team split up, each Spartan following a squad of Helljumpers down.

John could see the ground fast approaching and the Covenant opening fire with their defensive guns. ODSTs began taking plasma fire, going limp and spinning out of control. He waited for the last possible moment, then ignited his jetpack, feeling the whiplash as his descent was slowed, and slammed into the top of the Scarab with an audible "THUNK".

What remained of the squad he'd been assigned landed alongside. Half of them had died to anti-air fire from the defensive emplacements, including the sergeant from before.

"Troopers, with me." John-117 ordered, and the ODSTs immediately listened. They followed John, weapons at the ready, as they moved across the hull of the Scarab towards the nearest entrance.

John turned to look at the ODSTs. "Stay behind me. Don't split up."

An Elite opened the hatch, looking incredibly surprised when he was met with John's faceplate. He barely had time to yell out a warning, before John pressed his pistol between the alien's mandibles and fired upwards, splattering the ceiling of the entryway with brains.

-

John-117 pulled his bloody fist out of the chest cavity of the Scarab's commander. The Spartan was nearly covered from head to toe in the Elites' blood. He and the ODST squad had painted the walls of the control room blue in a quick and merciless assault that had lasted less than a minute. All the ODSTs died shortly after they'd breached the entrance, leaving John to clear the Scarab by himself.

It had gone faster than he'd expected it to.

John was about to head for the reactor to finish the walker off, when he got an idea.

"Blue Team, be advised. I'm commandeering this Scarab," he said over TEAMCOM.

He approached what he thought were the controls. Using his hard-earned knowledge of standard Covenant controls, he turned the Scarab around and then aimed its beam cannon at the Covenant base.

After some tentative button-pressing, the walker fired a beam of plasma that cut right through a Tyrant gun in a single shot. John smiled inside his helmet when he aimed the main gun downwards and fired it at the Covenant forces massing to repel the UNSC attack. The beam cut through anything it touched, killing hundreds as John swept it back and forth across the defenders.

"Blue Team. Sitrep." John said over TEAMCOM.

"Charges set." Three voices said in unison.

For a moment John considered setting demolition charges on his own Scarab, but decided against it.

"Regroup at my Scarab with all surviving ODSTs. The Materials Group is going to want a chance to look over another Scarab." John said as he opened fire at a line of wraith tanks that were trying and failing to return fire.

-  
**  
2300 hours, May 11, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
UNSC Rotterdam, in high stationary orbit above New Milan City**

Admiral Karil nodded in satisfaction as he saw another Covenant shield dome shut down. It was going to take weeks to months to clear the Covenant out of every base they had left. But with a Spartan team at his disposal, he was confident they could win in the end.

But the Covenant would be back. They always did come back.

"Admiral. The turian admiral is sending us a message."

The turian admiral appeared on the viewscreen. "_Admiral Karil. This is Admiral Karandis of the Turian Hierarchy. I'm stationing the core of my fleet in this system under a subordinate, as well as its ground complement. I've been recalled to attend a war summit to formally prepare our alliance with the UNSC._"

Admiral Karil nodded. "Godspeed, turian. May we meet again under better circumstances."


	27. Chapter 27

**1335 hours, May 8, 2542  
Lower City, High Charity**

Vado 'Mavamee returned to the location of the ambush alongside Len'Vellana, who had retrieved her burnt robe. She had turned the article inside out, revealing the undamaged interior, and held it up for the shipmaster to see. "Resistant inner layer. Can survive a direct plasma grenade impact."

"Must be quite rare." Vado 'Mavamee remarked. "Not even Sangheili kaidons wear such clothing. And they regularly face assassins."

"My family is old, Vado. Our line has been unbroken since the founding of the Covenant, and in that time, we have built up many powerful allies, vassals and protectorates across the Covenant." She grinned. "But yes. It is expensive. Prohibitively so. And secret too."

The San'Shyuum put her robe back on and assumed the weak but sagely posture of before. Vado wondered why this warrior of the gods hid her divinely gifted abilities the way she did. It seemed odd to him. But he knew better than to ask her, and so he returned to the task at hand.

"Now. This Sek'Telapa. His name has crossed my desk. He's a wanted smuggler. Might I ask why you require his services?" The Prelate inquired.

"Holy One, I have been given a mission to head far into unknown space to expand the knowledge of the Covenant, find new peoples to bring into the fold and secure the future of the faithful." Vado said. His meeting with a being as holy as the Prelate was igniting a fire in his hearts. He could not lie to her.

"Then I would like to go with you and spread the faith. You require a missionary, do you not?"

"There could be none finer!" Vado 'Mavamee exclaimed. "Let us find Sek'Telapa. His skills as a scavenger, smuggler and sniper are unmatched in my experience. We will surely need his expertise. "

They descended further into the lower levels of the Holy City, passing through the great Assembly Forges and entering the lower habitation blocks, where the many Kig-Yar, Yanme'e, Jiralhanae and other oxygen-breathing laborers dwelled. It was a somewhat somber place, with little decoration or luxuries, but it was not ugly.

Len'Vellana motioned for Vado to enter the small habitation block. "Welcome to the habitation block Somber Duty Breeds Salvation. The people here maintain the fusion reactor at the core of their settlement. The locals may rarely leave, but this is a hub for many who travel between the Unbreakable Spine and the Districts. If anyone knows where your T'Vaoan is, it will be here."

The streets were clean, there were no beggars, and everyone seemed to be performing their assigned vocation with some measure of gusto or determination. They got a few glances, but most continued about their tasks. 'Mavamee could see the Kig-Yar were constructing a new hatchery.

Life of those who lived in the lower levels of High Charity was not always the most splendorous, but it was not one of squalor. The Covenant did not tolerate beggars or unclean streets. The former would be given tasks or assigned to the expeditionary fleets, while the latter would be cleaned up. No exceptions.

"Your Grace." Vado said respectfully. "You navigate the lower levels of the city with a practiced grace and ease. You must have been down here more often. I must admit, I never left the Golden City or the Assembly Forges before."

Len'Vellana smiled sweetly. "Before my flesh was reforged by the divine instruments of the Ministry of Preparation, it was my duty to negotiate disagreements between the races not on the High Council. I've walked the lower levels many times when performing the duties of my office."

She motioned at the bustling district around them. It was filled with hard-working males and females of the Covenant, moving back and forth as they went about their daily lives. Many stopped to stare at Len'Vellana and Vado 'Mavamee and offered a short bow, hand across their heart. "I am a regular here. This district serves as a hub between a dozen Assembly Forges, infusion factories, dockyards, Yanme'e hives, Kig-Yar clutch chambers and Unggoy methane chambers. Keeping this place peaceful helps stabilize many of the surrounding levels."

"Like a general who controls a strategic crossroads and uses it to project force and control the battlefield." The shipmaster said. "That is a wise strategy."

The San'Shyuum nodded. "Indeed. Since I began focusing my efforts here, crime in most surrounding districts has gone down substantially. Wealth and prosperity are better at fighting crimes than a dozen Sangheili guards." She pointed at a large building with a sign in the Covenant trade pidgin - the language most traders and merchants spoke - on it..

"Yapyap's food nipple and infusion palace. Second serving free for deacons. Inquire after our methane infusion suites."

Vado opened and closed his mandibles in some confusion. "Your Grace, is this the right place?"

"Indeed, Shipmaster. Yapyap doesn't just serve the best food nipples and benzene, his bar is also neutral ground between many of the gangs and cults operating in the area. If anyone knows where the smuggler is, its Yapyap."

The shipmaster followed the robed San'Shyuum into the bar. It was a simple but well organized place, constructed of purple and dark grey metal, with the furniture and alcoves built into the walls and ceiling themselves. There was a single large bar with an Unggoy standing behind it, cleaning a glass. Above the counter hung a fuel rod cannon. There were overhanging nests constructed of synthetic fibres and ropes on which Kig-Yar sat in squawking groups, gnawing at kebabs of vat-grown meat.

On the ground floor there were alcoves, where a single central table could be found, around which lay pillows. On each table was a large food dispenser, as well as a methane refueling hose. Large Unggoy families gathered around each station to talk in their own dialects, taking sips from their food dispensers. Vado saw a waiter move up to a group that had just sat down, open the top of the dispenser and put a large transparent tub with some kind of nutrient paste in it. The waiter then closed the cap, and each Unggoy took a tube at the bottom of the dispenser, then screwed a clean mouthpiece from a rack on the table on. Preparations complete, they began drinking from their dispenser.

There was a single Jiralhanae, obviously a bouncer, leaning next to a door that led to a backroom.

Vado could make out four languages being spoken inside the bar: two dialects of Kig-Yar, three Unggoy dialects, the buzzing of the Yanme'e and the unmistakable sound of the Covenant trade pidgin that sounded like a bastardisation of Sangheili and Unggoy - which, in essence, it was.

The San'Shyuum caused stunned silence when she entered. Ignoring the gawkers, Vellana headed directly for the bartender.

"Yapyap, I am looking for Sek'Telapa. Get him for me." She said in her lilting voice.

"Right away, your Grace!" The Unggoy said, running through a door that was barely large enough for him to walk through - when ducking; a crude but effective way to block a Sangheili.

Vado 'Mavamee prepared himself for the ambush he expected. But instead the Unggoy came back through the small door, followed by a T'Vaoan who cursed loudly upon seeing the shipmaster, before noticing Len'Vellana and giving a short respectful bow.

"Your Grace, what have I done to deserve your visit?" The Kig-Yar sounded anxious, and like he wanted to make a run for it. His voice was partly scornful, but also partly sincere.

"Sek. Why are you hiding at a bar?" The shipmaster asked pointedly. "Are you hiding from one of your wives again?"

"Oh, Shipmaster, if only that were true. I… uhm..." Sek looked as if he was thinking up something, then just shrugged. "I messed up. Lost a shipment. Now my wife is looking to kill me. Yapyap's place is neutral ground, see. Nobody dares start a fight here." The Kig-Yar squawked. "Veterans working together. And all that." He gave the shipmaster a pointed grin.

Yapyap piped up. "Nobody dares mess with an Unggoy's bar when he has a fuel rod cannon under his counter." The Unggoy took off his mask for just a second so he could smile.

"It's hanging above your bar." Len'Vellana remarked.

"Oh. That's an antique from the Grunt rebellion." Yapyap pointed below his bar, with Len and Vado leaning over to inspect what he was pointing at. There was a black fuel rod cannon under the counter. "This one is from my days in Spec Ops."

"You've calmed down remarkably." The shipmaster remarked, noticing that the Unggoy bartender's uneasiness from before had almost completely vanished.

"Her Grace doesn't usually come here, unless it's to shut down a heretical sect or a criminal network. I was worried there was gonna be a shootout. What do you even need Sek for?"

"I have need of his skills as a sniper, scavenger, and… procurer." Vado 'Mavamee said. "I spent a year trying to catch him before he got a pardon for smuggling modified plasma rifles." The shipmaster clicked his jaws. "Saved some high ranking minister's favorite concubine. Full pardon for a lifetime of crime."

Yapyap laughed inside his mask, the sound coming out muffled. "Whatever you're taking him for, I want in. This sounds like fun."

The shipmaster raised an eyebrow and cocked his head at the Unggoy. He hadn't intended to take any on his expedition. "Why the sudden bravery, Unggoy?"

Yapyap shrugged. "Someone has to make sure Sek doesn't get himself killed. And I've been planning to retire for a while now. I'll leave the bar to my children." Yapyap looked at the T'Vaoan. "One last adventure? Just like old times."

Sek sighed. "I've been going stir crazy cooped up in here. And I'm not stupid enough to refuse a shipmaster and a San'Shyuum. Give me a minute to pack; I've still got an old needle rifle somewhere."

Vado offered a small prayer of thanks to the gods for putting Yapyap in his path. Surely this had to be providence.

The Minister of Discovery examined the mysterious device on his desk. He was intrigued by it. New type of holographic technology. A "haptic interface". Incredible storage capacity. And a wealth of data. It was a fascinating device, to be sure.

He looked at the images his Huragok had been able to extract, taking in the beautiful sights. This "Citadel" looked majestic: not as large as the Covenant's capital by far, but it was still a truly remarkable sight - the way it spun peacefully in the nebula, the ships moving around it. He decided that when the Covenant took that part of the galaxy into the fold, the Citadel would be kept intact.

Perhaps it could be incorporated into High Charity? Closed up and placed inside the great dome as a commensurately great monument?

The idea made him smile. The Citadel species, according to this "codex", were wise, intelligent, and diplomatic to a fault. It was a tragedy they fought alongside the humans, as he would have preferred diplomacy to bring them into the fold. But that could still be possible: they seemed very divided.

The salarians intrigued him - a short lived species of skilled scientists. They reminded him of the San'Shyuum who tended the relic vaults and researched the power and majesty of the ancients. The fact this species did not have the relics of the gods meant they had to develop their own sciences from the ground up. Admirable, if true.

The Minister had often in his life tried to move the lumbering engine of Covenant technological development, but rarely with much success. If the salarians could be incorporated into the Covenant… would they form a new caste? Researchers of the unsanctified sciences, perhaps in an assisting role to the San'Shyuum? The possibilities were amazing.

The hanar were wise and devout. They could colonize the ocean worlds of the Covenant and become the next big generation of missionaries and preachers. Much better than the Kig-Yar, in any case. He would love to talk with one of their priests and compare their histories. These "Protheans" must have been another race enlightened by the gods.

The turians and the Sangheili seemed natural partners. He had no doubt that the turians could in time push the Jiralhanae down in the hierarchy, and be one of the foremost military powers of the Covenant, after their society had been broken in.

When the Covenant's inexorable march towards salvation met the Citadel, their races would not be wiped out like the impure humans. No, they would be integrated into the Covenant and bring new wealth and prosperity unseen since the last Golden Age!

The Minister did some mental calculations. He was convinced that if Vado 'Mavamee sent back the information needed to send further scouting missions into Citadel space, he could appeal to the High Council to be given the resources it needed to fully exploit this information. And then, in accordance with the mandate of the Ministry of Discovery, they could monopolize exploration of Citadel Space, as well as distribution of astro-navigation information.

He had been liquidating what assets he had left, including many of his personal relics, in order to balance the ministry's finances. They were stable for now, which gave him some leeway to work with.

Discovery had also managed to report the loss of the ships containing the only living witnesses of the battle against the turians as due to "faulty navigation systems" from the Assembly Forge he had gotten the ships from. In order to avoid lengthy legal procedures and labyrinthine bureaucracy, the Assembly Forge's owners had settled out of court and offered to replace the ships.

He had gotten ten storm cutters instead and had sent one to a Sangheili keep who owed his ministry fealty each to acquire the finest zero-gravity trained warrior of each world. He only wanted the best of the best for Vado 'Mavamee's crew. Ten elite Rangers with the best equipment he could provide would fit this criterion.

The Unggoy would be far easier: he merely had to take one each from a cargo ship under his control and have them transported to the new ship. So far, his spies had not reported any sign that the Minister's activities had been discovered. Everything was still going smoothly.

The Minister of Discovery stood up from his desk and walked towards the window that overlooked the Golden City, his gravity belt straining to keep him upright. He took in the image that stood on the desk; it was a picture of his late wife in her wedding gown. The Minister smiled somberly; he still missed the Prophetess of Discovery. But she had passed away in her sleep many cycles ago, and he had learned to cope with his grief. Still, she'd loved the Ministry, and had devoted her life to making it grow. He wondered if she would approve of his actions.


	28. Chapter 28

**2128 hours, May 17, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)**

**Councilor Tevos' private quarters, the Citadel**

Tevos sipped her iced tea. It was almost time.

The door to her apartment opened, and an asari in formal attire walked in. It was Tela Vasir, one of the finest asari Spectres. She'd single-handedly broken the backs of Terminus warlords, wiped out illegal AI labs taken over by their creations and had under her belt a hundred more operations so secretive that even Tevos had to struggle to get her hands on the reports.

She was also an agent of the Shadow Broker.

Spectre Vasir activated her omni-tool and scanned the interior of Tevos' room for listening devices. She'd done it every time she entered, even though she never found any. This never stopped the Spectre from trying, of course, and at times Tevos wondered if today would be the day Vasir found the recording device Tevos had hidden in her shoe.

Tevos knew Valern had been trying to bug her quarters for some time now. It was why Tevos did all her cleaning and other household tasks by herself and never let anyone that she didn't trust inside her home. To the outside, it made her look like a hard-working respectable woman, but it also gave her complete control of what information went in and out of her suite.

In Tevos' centuries as Councilor, her room had slowly and secretly become a fortress. Only she knew about the secret exit below the carpet. The hidden weapon behind a wall panel. Or how with a single vocal command she could have the room filled with an anaesthetic gas that she had been genetically and cybernetically modified to be immune to. She wondered how much it must have vexed the STG that even their best listening equipment outside her apartment couldn't pick up the faintest whisper.

"Councilor, our mutual associate had been able to acquire information that could be quite valuable to you. In accordance with terms of the contract, I've come to deliver this information to you."

The "contract" referred to the deal Tevos had made with the Shadow Broker to help him place agents in the upper echelons of several asari republics, in exchange for providing her with political leverage against pacifist Matriarchs, as well as asari corporate leaders.

It was amazing what one could dig up on an asari Matriarch if they looked long enough. Nobody wanted their secret children or wild Maiden years to come to asari corporations quickly stopped their anti-tax lobbying when reminded of the Prothean data drives they had been studying in secret. The Shadow Broker truly was a good ally to have at times.

It was something Tevos had learned quickly. The Asari Republics were e-democracies, but Matriarchs held great power and influence in the society and at times formed de-facto shadow governments. Control the Matriarchs, and you could control the asari.

Tevos had to be careful, however. Blackmail did not work on idealists, only the self-serving. But if you convinced one hardliner asari to stop opposing the increased taxation, others would quickly follow suit. It was a dangerous game she was playing, but she judged the risks worth it. The Citadel had to prepare before the Covenant tide swarmed into its own systems.

And the asari were the closest to the Orion Relay. They would be the first to suffer in any invasion.

"Our associate has agreed to your terms and helped to install more militaristic Matriarchs into positions of power throughout the Asari Republics. The terms also included a promise to inform you of any potential Covenant infiltration." Tela Vasir took a datapad and placed it onto the coffee table. "But this does not cover his latest discovery."

"What have you found?" Tevos inquired, eying the deactivated datapad and picking it up. She turned it on, seeing a photographic image of the Orion Arm. It was dated as three hundred years old.

"Pictures taken by the Thessia Deep Space Observatory..." Tevos asked. "What's so special about these?"

She swiped the image to the left, seeing an identical photograph. This one was taken later, according to the timestamp. Tevos could not spot any difference, until she saw it: one of the stars was noticeably brighter in the second picture.

Vasir must have seen something change in Tevos' expression, because her smile immediately turned sour.

"This was at first classified as an occultation by a small moon or planetoid. But in the last two hundred years no observatory aimed at this solar system has detected a planetoid whose size and mass matches what we observed."

The realization slowly overcame Tevos.

"It wasn't a moon... By the goddess, if this is a fabrication, Vasir, our dealings are over." The Councilor snarled. "Why show me this?"

"Because the Shadow Broker feels it is important you remain motivated to follow our arrangement."

Tevos silently cursed to herself. The Broker was right. She couldn't break the "contract" for now: the Shadow Broker was far too influential to make an enemy of. She had to keep him on the side of the Citadel until the Covenant could be defeated. But for that, she had to make the Broker dependent on her. Or at least, make turning on the Asari too expensive. But it would not last. It was like a Terminus colony bribing a krogan warband not to invade.

Just long enough for her to find him, kill him and replace him.

The Councilor took a look at the datapad again as Tela Vasir left her apartment. The Extranet reporters would shrug the visit off as the two of them having a quick fling, like they always did when Tevos brought guests.

She tried to think of what to do with this information.

**1400 hours, May 20, 2542, (UNSC callender)**

**Bridge, Destiny Ascension, in orbit over New Ghent.**

Matriarch Benezia stood on the bridge of the Destiny Ascension as she awaited the arrival of the human diplomats. According to the information handed over by the human admiral, the diplomats could arrive any second now. It had been decided by the Citadel Council, that the flagship of the Citadel fleet would be sent to this historic meeting.

The diplomats from Citadel space had been preparing ever since, drawing up growing lists of demands, requests, concessions and offers to ingratiate themselves with the humans. The word of the unique technologies the humans possessed had begun to spread, as well as the information about what they did not. There was great influence to be gained in being the first to acquire working examples of their "slipspace" engines or to sell them comm buoy technology.

The offers extended from military assistance to technology, raw materials, food and large-scale shipments of industrial equipment. It was a curious mixture of genuine care and enlightened self-interest from all parties involved. The Covenant had to be pushed back, no doubt about it. But that did not mean the Citadel's representatives couldn't make profit from this. So far the most pressing points had been who would help the humans build a comm buoy network and the future proliferation of their "slipspace" FTL drives.

The volus had sent envoys from both their government and the Galactic Bank, as well as representatives from megacorporations in Citadel space that had ties to the volus government. The corporations in particular were keenly interested in the prospects of this "Titanium A" the humans made their ships out of, as well how they made their massive ships feasible. While human FTL was slower than what ships with mass effect cores could achieve, it made superheavy ships practical, a boon which the volus government, as well as corporations like the Elkoss Combine, was seeking to acquire in exchange for financial assistance, raw resources and military equipment.

The asari had sent Matriarch Benezia as the official ambassador of the Asari Republics, but there were many corporate representatives as well. Armali Council, for example, was interested in acquiring an exclusive license for human FTL technology to supplement their dominance on the drive core market, while other corporations specializing in civilian technology wanted to quickly tap into the humans' intellectual resources. Matriarch Aethyta was to represent the military forces sent to assist.

The salarians hadn't sent as many envoys as the other Council races, instead sending Jondum Bau to represent the military of the Salarian Union, accompanied by a few civilian ambassadors. They were interested in selling comm buoy technology to the humans, and as theirs was the best in Citadel space, they would likely succeed in such a thing. Their fleet was also preparing for pre-emptive incursions into Covenant space to map it out, or at least determine potential targets.

The turian delegation was a predominantly military one as expected, with Primarch Fedorian coming personally to "show the flag". He'd brought admirals, generals, logisticians, scientists and representatives of the Hierarchy's military-industrial complex. They were intent on setting up technological trade with the humans and formalizing a military alliance.

The elcor had sent a single representative, a diplomat to formalize friendly relationships with the humans and offer a contingent of elcor ground forces. The elcor rarely went to war, and even rarer so eagerly, but a combination of wanting peaceful relations with the humans, a fiery hatred for what the Covenant was perpetrating and a desire to at least show some measure of commitment to the Citadel's cause had resulted in the Elcor offering to send part of their standing army to assist.

The hanar had sent the high priest of Healing Waters to coordinate humanitarian aid from the many Enkindler-based religions of their aquatic worlds. Healing Waters was the most trusted non-profit organisation in the galaxy, renowned for their selfless aid to the less fortunate. Although Benezia suspected that this was also coordinated by the Illuminated Primacy as groundwork for a cordial relationship in the future.

The most curious attendants were the batarians. They had shown up uninvited, but they also offered substantial military support to the Covenant war… in exchange for lifting of sanctions on their economy. Benezia wondered if the turians might agree to this so that the batarian fleet would be out of Citadel space as the war began in the earnest, letting the turians decrease their border patrols. But she doubted the salarians or the asari would be as amenable.

In any case, the batarians were still Citadel members, at least officially, and so they would be allowed to attend. They'd sent one ambassador purely to inform the Batarian Hegemony's secretive government of what was happening beyond the Orion Relay.

Benezia was concerned about the batarians slipping from the public consciousness due to the actions of the Covenant. Theirs was still an aggressive government that defended slavery as an "inalienable" part of their economy and culture, and their only reason for not being destroyed by the turians was the fact they could be reasoned with… to an extent. Taking out the Hegemony would be an excruciatingly long and bloody affair.

"Human slipspace portals opening at the edge of the system." An asari sensors operator reported. "Two large contacts coming through - no, wait. Smaller contacts are breaking off from the ships."

The viewscreen on the Destiny Ascension's bridge showed two massive ships slowly emerge from what looked like black-blue-white vortices. The ships had to be very large, many kilometers long each. Benezia leaned forward to look at the sensor readouts, noting the exact size of the ships in question. "Four kilometers long, but it's not a space station. That is... quite impressive." She said in an unusual showing of surprise.

The diplomats muttered among themselves in hushed whispers, while the military representatives calmly observed. The turian Primarch leant forward on a railing and nodded approvingly at the sight, a rare sight from the grizzled turian, the turians around him apparently being in agreement. One of them stepped forward - Admiral Karandis, the turian who'd won the first space battle of the war.

"I wonder if the FTL method these humans use explains the size of their ships. It must be. We've not seen any indications that they're using element zero drives. Their ships are definitely slower than ours, but in terms of size they are bigger than any warship we have. I wonder if they would be willing to trade that technology."

Primarch Fedorian slowly nodded. "We could use them to create mobile fleet bases and superheavy ships for defensive deployments. A fleet with mass effect technology and the right speed could run circles around an attacking force of ships like these. But it would be suicide to attack them head on." He mused. "Our technologies would complement each other quite well. I believe they would be willing to trade Mass Effect FTL for this "cross-dimensional" drive they use. The strategic options it would open up would be priceless to say the least."

Other ships were sliding out of their own portals - two squadrons of ships half a kilometer long each, shaped like long thin arrowheads, all exiting into normal space widely apart, but quickly adjusting their course to move back into position. Then came an even larger ship that looked like a massive slab of solid metal with yard space and repair docks.

"We are receiving a message from one of the human supercapitals. Putting it through now." An asari communications officer called out.

_"This is the Punic-class supercarrier UNSC Trafalgar, formally representing the Unified Earth Government on behalf of the United Nations Space Command Security Council. We come in peace and to open diplomatic contact with your species._

_"We hope to establish a rich and productive relationship with your leaders and formally establish an anti-Covenant coalition."_

Benezia mentally went through the speech she had prepared for this moment. The humans were blunt and to the point. So would she.

"We gladly accept your hand of peace and offer our full support in driving the Covenant out of human space. Our diplomats are ready to make formal contact. Where do you wish to formally meet?"

The humans immediately responded. _"As befits an event of this magnitude, we invite you aboard our flagship. Our diplomats and xenoscience experts are eager and ready to meet you." _


	29. Chapter 29

**1350 hours, May 20, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
Mess Deck, UNSC Trafalgar, in slipspace transit to New Ghent**

Doctor Catherine Halsey took another spoonful of nutrient paste.

Diplomats. The word still rung falsely in her ears. The idea that alien life could befriend humanity and seek peaceful contact had been floating around in scientific circles for centuries before the Covenant declared a holy war against humanity, and Halsey could still remember some of that old optimism of her youth. She was truly excited about the possibilities this meeting offered.

She'd practically been dragged out of her lab and shoved aboard a Pelican heading towards the UNSC Trafalgar when the word of New Ghent had reached Reach. Admiral Parangosky had ordered the best, brightest and most disposable scientists on Reach whose expertise seemed to be even remotely useful for first contact diplomacy to be sent on this mission. The quarters set aside for them had quickly become an eclectic mess.

ONI scientists from Section Three with thousand-yard stares mingled with xeno-botanists from the universities of New Alexandria, R&D researchers from SinoViet Heavy Machinery, economists, bureaucrats from a dozen different branches of the government and a handful of ancient men and women who'd been taught First Contact Protocols before Harvest. At first it had been difficult to get everyone to interact, but as the first contact package the aliens had sent began to disseminate fully that started changing.

The journey to New Ghent had been one full of impromptu seminars held in briefing rooms, the mess halls and sleeping quarters. There were furious debates on the most minute aspects of what they knew. From the facial structure of the asari, to the liquid tertiary nervous system of the krogan. But one of the most popular topics to discuss was without a doubt this "mass effect" and the capabilities it could provide, such as the so-called "biotics". In the end, the captain of the Trafalgar had decided that the best course of action was to just seal off their section of the ship and leave the scientists to their own devices.

Catherine Elizabeth Halsey normally stayed away from the mess decks of ships she travelled aboard, but she'd come to enjoy the lively debates being held.

"Doctor Halsey. What do you think of these mentions of anti-AI laws? It's your area of expertise." She heard a voice behind her, and turned to look. The speaker was a young man with an unkempt beard and short messy hair; he approached her, followed by a handful of other scientists.

"At first I was concerned these aliens were luddites, but their classification of synthetic life is fascinating. It appears their classification of artificial intelligences splits them into two groups. They have so-called "virtual intelligences", which is what we would call a dumb AI or a low grade commercial smart AI. And then there are the artificial intelligences proper. At first I thought they would be like our smart AI, but that was erroneous of me. They are not based upon a Riemann matrix created via Cognitive Impression Modeling and then run on any computer system with enough processing power."

Halsey was getting into the thick of it now. It was good to discuss this with fellow scientists; she'd spent too much time with secretive ONI spooks who avoided her like the plague. She began gesticulating as she talked. "Instead, they seem to not have developed Cognitive Impression Modeling technology at all. What they call an "artificial intelligence" is a purely synthetic intelligence that has been raised from a handful of slow-running processes on a quantum computing rig and is almost completely devoid of any innate sense of morality, empathy, or other human notions instilled into our smart AI during creation." Halsey thought of what to say next. "If, as I suspect, such an intelligence does not naturally decay due to a rampancy equivalent, you have a potentially unlimited superintelligence without any true understanding of human morality and ethics."

A shiver went through the disquieted scientists who'd started listening. Catherine just smiled at them. "The UNSC would never approve of the unrestricted creation of a potentially unlimited superintelligence, but the fact they are capable of running an AI on quantum computers is fascinating. We've never really explored that avenue of research since the discovery of crystal-based AI computing. Perhaps something about quantum computing makes Cognitive Impression Modelling impossible?"

The ship's intercom activated. "All hands, prepare for slipspace emergence."

None of the other scientists seemed bothered by this. They'd only be called upon when it was deemed necessary for them to be involved. For now, they'd continue their discussion.

"Why do you think these aliens do not have slipspace drives?" The scientist across from her at the table said, taking another swig of water. "I mean, for larger capital ships. Have we just not seen them yet?"

Halsey thought of this, recalling what she'd read from the notes of the men who'd developed the technology.

"Well, the invention of the original slipspace drive was very much a shot in the dark, and possibly even an accidental discovery. That last part is still being disputed. It's quite possible that they've just never discovered slipspace by sheer chance. If not for Wallace Fujikawa and Tobias Shaw's persistence, we might have not developed any form of faster-than-light travel for centuries."

"Or millenia?" The scientist across from her asked. "If they had another form of FTL, stabbing around in the dark hoping to make the one in a trillion discovery in the field of quantum electro-dynamics wouldn't be high on a priority list. And even then, the fathers of slipspace technology have still not been surpassed in sheer capability."

"Quite possibly, yes. Perhaps normally slipspace is discovered much later into the life cycle of a species, but we just made the right breakthrough to do so much earlier. It's quite feasible we were just lucky and clever enough."

Halsey's datapad blinked. She brought it up, the holographic projection of Déjà flickering to life. The dumb AI was one of her best assets and had proven to be a priceless source of advice to Halsey… and a way to alleviate her conscience. "Doctor Halsey. Vice-Admiral Whitcomb needs your presence in the meeting room. He wants you to be at the official summit when the alien envoys arrive."

"I'm on my way, Déjà." Catherine said.

-

**1443 hours, May 20, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
Hangar Deck Four, UNSC Trafalgar, New Ghent system**

The UNSC Trafalgar was an enormous ship, and it took Halsey far too long to finally get to the hangar. She listened in on the message received from the alien ships and avoided the ecstatic crewmen that moved to their stations. It was unusual to see such excitement in people nowadays, instead of desperation. Hope really was a drug.

The meeting room had been set up on one of the hangar decks of the Trafalgar to house the alien envoys, both because it was large enough to suit the needs of the meeting, and because it could be vented into space if necessary. Halsey dearly hoped such a measure would not be needed. The tables were being cleaned for the fifth time since she'd arrived, and decorations were being moved back and forth to create the best initial impression possible. There was an air of frantic excitement in the air as the final preparations were made, checked and then checked once again.

Vice Admiral Danforth Whitcomb nodded at Halsey as she entered the room. He was looking through the files he'd been given by the Security Council. Halsey knew just how much was riding on this alliance and that the UNSC was desperate for a source of hope in the face of the Covenant's inexorable advance. There was little they wouldn't do to secure an alliance.

"Doctor Halsey, as one of our chief scientific minds, I would like for you to sit next to me for the official meeting, so we could show not only our military prowess, but also our scientific acumen." Whitcomb sighed. "It's difficult. Every instinct screams at me this is a trap, but all our evidence starkly points against it. Their "Codex" couldn't possibly be a fabrication by the Covenant, it is far too complex and in-depth. And the technology doesn't fit what we have seen the Covenant use. This really could be a turning point in the war. If we can get them to ally with us."

"What is the Security Council willing to give up?" Halsey inquired.

"We need damn near everything, from food to exotic elements. We can spare nothing except our technologies. So we'll be looking for a way to trade that to the aliens for everything they're worth. In exchange, we'll be trying to get our hands on whatever they'll offer us - mostly their faster-than-light engines, superluminal communications and their ground forces hardware. But in the end? We need everything we can get."

"What is the current list of objectives from the Security Council?" Halsey asked.

"A military alliance, whatever economic or military support they can give us, trade deals for bulk imports. Everything in that order."

The door Halsey had entered through opened again, and six lines of ODSTs in full dress uniform marched out in lockstep. As they did so, a pair of spacers began rolling out a literal red carpet along the path the alien envoys would have to take. The ODSTs took up positions behind the chairs assigned to the UNSC diplomats and envoys, their stark white uniforms and black rifles contrasting each other. Halsey noticed that the soldiers present were both men and women and represented every human ethnicity; she wondered if that was intended, and assumed it was - to demonstrate a full spectrum of backgrounds UNSC's soldiers had.

Whitcomb looked at his antique mechanical wristwatch. "They'll be boarding us in a few minutes. We're as ready as we'll ever be." He adjusted his medals, straightened his collar and stood at the end of the red carpet, hands behind his back as he awaited the aliens. "I'll greet them, guide them to their seats, and then it's up to the diplomats to decide."

Halsey glanced at the massive inner airlock door, its lights now glowing red, indicating that there was hard vacuum outside. The outer hangar doors had opened to allow the alien shuttle in.

-

"Citadel ship, this is Trafalgar Control. You are cleared to enter the assigned airlock. Please keep any weapons holstered for the duration of the meeting."

Benezia looked out the cockpit canopy of the diplomatic shuttle at the ship they were about to land on. It was a massive bulky warship, bristling with guns and lacking in any kind of decoration that an asari ship would have. She wondered if that said anything about these humans, or about the state of their military. Whatever the case, it looked more like a mobile space station than a warship.

She'd been waiting for this moment since she'd first heard of what was going on beyond the relay, and her daughter's conscription into the scientific advisors working for the Turian Hierarchy. She'd objected vociferously, but to little avail. In the end, she'd reneged and agreed that it was for the best if her daughter stayed away from combat postings. Which she had.

For the first meeting, she had merely taken the ambassadors of each race, as well as two advisors each, so as not to clutter the meeting.

The shuttle approached the hangar bay airlock and slowly used its thrusters to come to a stop inside. The outer airlock doors closed, and vents lining the walls opened up, filling the airlock with air. The inner doors opened next, and the shuttle continued on, proceeding to set down on the landing pad. Benezia looked out the viewports and saw the human envoys and ambassadors about to meet them. They were all dressed in white clothing that looked like it was modified utilitarian apparel, with most of them wearing caps, medals pinned on their chests. They stood at attention, rifles shouldered and aimed upwards.

Benezia left the cockpit and headed into the passenger compartment. The ambassadors were all standing up from their seats and making their final preparations. Most looked at their datapads or physical notes or discussed the agenda with fellow representatives. Benezia would be the speaker for the Citadel, but only for the initial meeting. After that, it would be a nightmare trying to keep all the diplomatic talks on the same level.

The Matriarch felt the shuttle settle and headed for the exit. She stepped into the decontamination chamber and watched as the airlock cycled.

-

Doctor Catherine Halsey's eyes went wide as she saw the sheer variety of alien ambassadors emerging from the shuttle.

There were blue humanoids that moved with purpose and grace, led by a female in a black robes that seemed to command presence and attention from all around her. Most of these "asari", as the first Contact Package called them, wore dresses or skin-tight suits of armor.

There were the turians from before, the avian-looking aliens wearing bulky suits of armor and marching in perfect lockstep. Alongside them were amphibian-like aliens with long gangly limbs and massive deep black eyes.

These three races took up position in the lead of the Citadel delegation.

Next came hulking quadrupeds that moved on massive limbs and slowly and ponderously took their position. Each was followed by some type of personal robot that served a purpose unknown to Halsey.

Moving up next were small squat aliens in what looked like pressure suits. There were dozens of them, their suits featuring complicated designs and adorned with symbols and trinkets of a nature that Halsey could not discern.

There were floating purple aliens that looked like jellyfish, which hovered over the ground with the help of what had to be an antigravity device.

Finally there was a smaller group of greenish-brown-skinned, four-eyed aliens that seemed to be having trouble fitting in with the rest. They seemed to stand totally apart from everyone else. They moved to the far right of the arriving diplomats, and put some space between themselves and the others, although it looked like this was very much mutual, by the awkward shuffling of the squat aliens.

The asari in the black robes stepped forward, walking across the red carpet towards the waiting admiral Whitcomb. She approached him, and stopped two meters from him, then spoke up.

"I am Matriarch Benezia, diplomat of the Asari Republics and representative of the Citadel Council. In the name of peace and friendship, I cordially greet you all to the galactic community. We wish to formally ally with you in the face of the Covenant threat." She bowed.

Admiral Whitcomb saluted Benezia. "We humbly accept your offer and extend the hand at peace. Please sit down, so we can work out a formal alliance. We've brought diplomats and representatives from many organizations within UEG space. Our scientists are also eager to meet your own advisors."

Benezia smiled. "We have our own advisors and experts aboard our ship. After we have formalized our military alliance, we can talk matters of trade and diplomacy." She motioned towards a turian in a full suit of sealed black armor, who walked up next to her. "This is Primarch Fedorian of the Turian Hierarchy, he will be taking point in further negotiations regarding military matters."

"That sounds excellent. Please take your seat here." Whitcomb said, guiding Benezia to the chair at the middle of a long row of tables set out for the Citadel ambassadors.

Benezia and the other alien ambassadors quickly took their seats.

"Lady Benezia. You may have the first word, if you would." Whitcomb smiled.

Benezia nodded. "I have been sent here by my government to establish a full military alliance against the Covenant, as well as provide military, industrial, and humanitarian aid for your people. Our first course of action will be to formalize this alliance and lay the groundwork for military cooperation. After the conclusion of these negotiations, we will help your people to integrate into the galactic economy so you can begin purchasing materials and finished goods from the manufacturers in the wider galaxy."

Halsey raised an eyebrow: surely these aliens wouldn't be so generous. There had to be an ulterior motive - propping up the UNSC as a bulwark against the Covenant, perhaps? That was the first thing she could think of.

Whitcomb nodded. "I assume you wish for some type of unified command system for our forces? Or at least a way to coordinate such an effort? How would you go about doing this?"

Primarch Fedorian spoke up next. "Exactly. We're currently setting up a network of supply depots, scouting fleets and communications systems for the forces deployed. We wish to use New Ghent as one of our main naval bases as well as as a terminus of a supply route to your territories. But it would be better if our fleet could operate more freely in your territory to better respond to attacks. It's why we've brought superluminal communications buoys with us - to allow for improved communications."

Catherine's eyes went wide. Cole had been right: these aliens did possess superluminal communications. Such a thing could revolutionize many aspects of the human civilization, and these aliens were offering to share a few examples. It was almost too good to be true.

The turian continued. "We have been mustering our fleets and forces and can deploy at a moment's notice. We want to make the most we can of any surprise our appearance might have caused. I understand you are hesitant about giving us the coordinates of your worlds. So as a show of good faith, you can give us the location of your former colonies and territories, and our forces will move to reclaim and hold them. That will buy you time to recover, and us time to arrange the technology exchange." The turian sounded totally assured of himself.

Halsey narrowed her eyes, trying to find anything hinting at treachery in the alien's voice, but there was nothing she could discern. He seemed to radiate conviction and purpose. And there was little actual risk for the UNSC, was there? In the increasingly unlikely scenario this was actually a Covenant trap, they would already know the location of these worlds.

Admiral Whitcomb nodded. "That is an excellent suggestion. Just a few months would at long last give our fleets an opportunity to regroup, repair, resupply, and prepare to assist in your offensive operations. "

Benezia nodded, placed a small circular device on the table and then called up an orange hologram around her left forearm. With a press, the device projected the schematics of a spherical object with a large protrusion on one side, emitter lenses visible on the blueprint. "This is a standard Extranet communications beacon. They allow for instantaneous communications across interstellar distances. If we are to form a united front against the Covenant, we will require constant communications. We have with us ships capable of constructing these devices. If you'd allow it, we can immediately set about establishing a comm buoy network in UNSC space. That will allow constant direct communications between our governments and our militaries. After the initial connection is established, we can begin expanding this communications network to encompass most of your space."

Whitcomb scowled. "I am hesitant to allow unknown devices into UNSC space. Can we examine the blueprints and the technology in question?" He glanced at Halsey, letting the scientist know that she would take the point in this. "To keep our navigation data safe, we'd like to move these communications devices ourselves. We can move your ships in the hold of the Supercarrier Punic."

Benezia smiled. "Naturally. Comm buoy technology is open source in Citadel Space. After our negotiations, we'll hand over the blueprints for examination by your scientists. We'll also provide you with advisors to teach you to construct your own."

Whitcomb's face didn't show any emotion, but his body language eased up a little. "Ah yes, this "element zero" that your first contact package spoke of. We've never discovered it ourselves, but the possibilities intrigue our scientists. Perhaps we could consider a technological exchange after we've hammered out our alliance - slipspace drives for mass effect cores, for example? We'd be greatly interested in upgrading our messenger ships - they could use the extra speed."

The Primarch spoke up again. "I believe that a full meeting where we can discuss our respective technological bases is something that should be arranged as soon as possible, but only after the alliance has been formalized and the military matters resolved."

Whitcomb nodded. "I will have you provided with the coordinates of the worlds in the Covenant invasion corridor that have been lost to the enemy or discovered by them. If you can give us breathing room, we can see about arranging technological exchange or integration with your economy. But that does not matter if we can't stop the Covenant's advance."

After a brief, quiet exchange between Benezia and the Primarch, the latter responded. "That's acceptable. We'll move our fleet to defend your worlds while your forces regroup, and we'll set up the communications infrastructure that you can use to coordinate your defenses. Then, with your worlds tied into a superluminal communications network, we'll be able to properly organize technological exchange, economic support and military cooperation."

Whitcomb nodded in assent. "I agree. We have brought diplomats, scientific experts, legal advisors and economists with us. I propose that they meet yours and begin negotiations in advance of the construction of these "comm buoys", so that we can immediately make use of them when they come online."

"Excellent." Benezia gave a reserved smile. "I take it this ship will remain here in orbit? I can have our advisors and diplomats brought over."

Whitcomb's gaze darkened. "Good. But that brings me to another topic - specifically, the alien artifacts on New Ghent. We will be preparing to move the wrecked Covenant battlecruiser offworld as soon as we can and prepare to excavate the derelict discovered underneath the Covenant landing zone. What are your intentions regarding them?"

Catherine eyed Whitcomb incredulously; she hadn't heard anything of another alien ship. Had something happened between Cole requesting diplomats and their arrival? She'd ask him later, when the time was right.

Benezia turned towards an amphibian-looking alien sitting next to her, opposite of the Primarch, and they whispered something. "In Citadel space, all xenoarcheology finds are to be shared equally amongst all species to preserve the balance of power and ensure equal access. As it was disabled by turian forces and crashed on a human world, we propose that the Covenant wreckage be moved elsewhere if possible and examined by a joint research group. We can share the progress our scientists have already made."

Catherine felt off about sharing such a discovery with aliens, but she couldn't deny that it was a sensible proposal. And the UNSC needed this alliance desperately.

After a few seconds of deliberation, Whitcomb made the decision she expected. He grit his teeth and nodded reluctantly. "That is… acceptable. I expect that your progress so far will be shared with us posthaste?"

Benezia nodded. "Certainly. However, we have not been able to actively explore the second ship. The fungal and bacterial ecosystem that has developed inside has proven difficult to remove, and the biochemical byproducts are exceptionally dangerous to most forms of carbon-based life without protective equipment. Exploration has been slow and difficult, restricted by the rate the ship is being cleared out at. The same proposal as with the battlecruiser stands."

Whitcomb frowned. "That makes sense. We'll consider it."

-

Benezia smiled at how well the negotiations went. She had the leverage, and the humans had the desperation. The right mix of care, reasonableness and generosity ensured that the UNSC delegates easily agreed to the terms of her proposal. It wasn't that unexpected, however: the humans were in a desperate war for survival, and the Citadel Council offered them a lifeline.

The Council had every reason to be generous and assist the humans however they could. And Benezia was totally convinced of the need to do such a thing, but she still wanted these negotiations to go faster. She'd formalize the military alliance as planned, help arrange the creation of a comm buoy network in the UNSC space, and then make sure that every useful bit of technology for the fight against the Covenant would be shared between both sides. She'd expected the humans to offer the Covenant battlecruiser in exchange for the buried ship, so she'd quickly had the issue resolved on the spot. The law on xeno-archeological artifacts was the most strictly enforced law in Citadel space, and she had no intention to let the humans hoard an ancient warship.

Vice Admiral Whitcomb stood up. "I agree on the current course of action regarding the Covenant. As the representative of the United Nations Space Command Defense Force, as empowered by the Security Council, I accept your offer of a military alliance. The subject of technological exchanges and economic integration shall be broached in due time, once the comm buoy network has been established and we no longer need to be concerned with the delays caused by courier ships."

The Matriarch looked over the assembled representatives again, and wondered just how much of the human militarism was part of their culture or how much was due to the necessities of war. They were definitely militaristic, but she wondered if they were meritocratic. If there had been a military takeover of the government, that could lead to systemic corruption. Therefore, human power structures bore further investigation later.

"Agreed." Benezia smiled. She was happy the humans weren't so paranoid about alien life that they couldn't agree with reason and common sense. This would just require a deft touch to guarantee a stable alliance: just the right mix of friendship, cooperation and subtle indirect coercion.

After that the meeting devolved into an exchange of pleasantries from both sides and promises of military assistance and economic support. No concrete decisions were made, but with gentle persuasion and concise argumentation Benezia steered the conversation more and more towards formalizing an alliance.

-

Doctor Halsey and Admiral Whitcomb met after a break was called for the meeting. Catherine looked at Whitcomb and asked the first question, "So, what do you think of them, Admiral? I am suspicious of their generosity. It makes me think it's a trap."

Whitcomb shook his head. "No. It all makes perfect sense. They're propping us up out of enlightened self-interest and a desire to turn us into a bulwark against the Covenant. It's what any intelligent being would do in a situation like this: they support the ally closest to the front lines and make sure they don't have to fight in their own territory." He sighed. "It's the dream of any politician: a politically expedient move that's also altruistic."

"Should we be worried?" Halsey asked.

"No. Their actions are understandable, and in any case, we don't have the luxury to say no. To be frank, I wish I hadn't been sent here, but someone had to represent the Security Council in matters of defense. Economic integration and technological exchange will be discussed by the others, once we have formalized the alliance." Whitcomb suddenly stopped, looking lost in thought. "I just had an idea. For the war effort."

Catherine wondered what Whitcomb meant, but he did not elaborate. Instead she thought of the marvelous technologies on offer. From the sounds of things, the diplomats would be pulling an all-nighter to discuss the technological exchange, and she was earmarked to attend the meeting. She was looking forward to it; the gravity manipulation technology used by the newcomers was remarkable, and she couldn't even imagine the UNSC manufacturing the sheer volume of antimatter that was likely being produced by the Citadel. These "mass effect" technologies had great potential.

Meanwhile, delegates started heading back and taking their seats; the break had to be over. Catherine went back to her seat, noticing that Whitcomb was already there.

The admiral stood up. "Our course of action regarding the military matters has been decided for now. But I would like to make a request of your people. We humans are tired and worn out by this war, and our people could do with a morale boost. I'd like to ask for representatives and soldiers of all your races to be there on Earth once the alliance has been formally signed."

Benezia looked befuddled, but the turian Primarch merely nodded. "Like a parade? If so, I agree. If you want, I can have a regiment parade through the streets of whichever cities on your homeworld you want, at the time of your choosing. And so will the rest of the species represented here."

There were murmurs among the alien envoys, but most quickly nodded in silent agreement.

"Excellent!" Whitcomb said, a smile on his face. "I am sure our people will appreciate the gesture."


	30. Chapter 30

**1730 hours, May 20, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
Mess Deck, UNSC Trafalgar, New Ghent system**

If the mess deck of the _Trafalgar_ had been busy before, now it was straight up packed. The alien scientific advisors and corporate representatives had all flooded inside when the crew had let them aboard, and the place quickly turned into a chaotic, albeit organized, mess. Corporate representatives from both sides talked about things from marketing strategies to how to properly harvest helium from gas giants. Every room and compartment capable of fitting the delegates was currently in use. Generals and admirals shared stories and tactics, while diplomats exchanged pleasantries and set up future trade agreements.

Vice Admiral Whitcomb was currently discussing something with Admiral Cole, and Doctor Halsey had been asked to meet with the Citadel scientists who were examining the alien artifacts planetside. Naturally, Catherine had taken the opportunity to get to know her alien counterparts.

"Engine power output impressive. Very efficient," Mordin Solus said to Halsey. She gave the salarian a quick nod and continued examining the blueprints she had been given. This "comm buoy" technology was based on the principles she already understood, but, combined with the "mass effect" field, it allowed near instantaneous transmissions across interstellar distances. The laser array was as she'd expected: simple but robust, with an incredible bandwidth for a communications laser. But that was to be expected for a technology so important for the Citadel races.

"Amazing to see full potential of pure deuterium fusion. Need for larger fuel storage makes usage by smaller ships difficult, but excellent for heavy capital ships. Not as good as helium-3-deuterium fusion in my opinion. Takes less space. More power generated. Turians will want hybridized reactors." Mordin said as he examined the specifications of a UNSC fusion reactor.

Catherine nodded, looking at the blueprints again. She and other human scientists were currently being guided through the principles behind the operation of comm buoys, in preparation for their deployment in the UNSC space. So far, out of her Citadel colleagues, Catherine especially liked salarians: they were hard-working and very eager to explore. They reminded her of her college days.

"Mass effect is clearly a useful technology. It opens up many opportunities: improved fusion reactors, metallic hydrogen, or even production of antimatter. I can only imagine how much more efficient our reactors could be if we were to combine our fusion bottle designs with your mass effect fields and Helium-3 reactors." Halsey said, continuing to examine the schematics. She really couldn't find anything indicating a hidden function, and the things didn't have even a single square inch of open space. The design was remarkably compact.

Mordin looked her over. "Comm buoy plans satisfactory? Can have an example brought for analysis."

Halsey shook her head. "No. I've looked it over. I see no way the devices could be used against us: no space for extra devices, and not enough power or fuel to do anything but scorch paint. I'll recommend in my report that they be deployed in as many UNSC systems as possible to provide a communications network. This could save many lives."

Mordin smiled. It was unnerving to see such a human expression on an alien face, but Halsey just smiled back, as a matter of courtesy. It was hard to shake off her apprehension towards aliens, but the salarians were quickly earning her trust.

"Glad to be of help," the salarian scientist replied.

Catherine put the blueprints down. "Now, onto the real subject. The ships you have discovered - Matriarch Benezia said you would share your findings."

Mordin nodded and activated his omni-tool - Halsey wanted one for herself - and made a waving motion. Halsey's datapad chimed, reporting an unauthorised attempt to transfer a file, and Catherine authorised it. This just made her want to get an omni-tool even more, but she shelved the idea for the time being.

"Examination of crashed Covenant ship proceeding apace. Thorough analysis of all onboard systems nearly complete, plasma leaks fixed, hulk prepared for thorough deconstruction and examination in detail. Waiting for UNSC opinions beforehand. Or veto and transporation to orbit. Either way works."

Halsey opened the file and started reading report. She nodded approvingly: the work was well-organized and well-documented, with painstaking attention to detail. She quickly committed everything to memory and began typing notes of her own on her laptop, the keys clacking at a machine-gun pace as she got to work.

Halsey kept talking as she typed, not taking her eyes off the keyboard. "One final matter. When will we be going down to the underground ship?" She asked Mordin.

"Biohazard containment procedures underway. Cleanup proceeding slower than expected." The salarian nodded. "Have to wait until we clear and seal off the derelict before we can set up atmospheric scrubbers. Technology is… incredible, but incomprehensible. Difficult to work with." The salarian took a deep breath. "Welcome challenge to skills. Looking forward to further exploration."

"I see. Well, we're making excellent progress so far. I'll send my report to Vice-Admiral Whitcomb."

"No need, Doctor Halsey," she heard Whitcomb's voice behind her. The admiral stepped into the room, accompanied by his guards, and moved up to look at what she was working on. "Your opinion on these "comm buoys", Doctor?"

Catherine turned and nodded. "The blueprints we've been given are excellent - they completely map out the devices and their functions. These buoys couldn't be used against us in any way."

"You're sure of that?" Whitcomb asked.

Halsey pulled up the schematics and pointed at the buoy's laser array. "It can only send signals in a straight line to its counterpart, which means that it's trivial to see if they suddenly aim elsewhere. The laser arrays are not capable of moving without having to realign the whole unit. I gather that ONI would want to take each of them apart to be sure there are no tracking devices inside, but, going by the blueprints, there's not even a nanometer of space that doesn't serve a purpose in these devices. And each component is mapped down to the last transistor."

Whitcomb raised an eyebrow. "Transistor equivalents? No incomprehensible alien technology?" he asked, chuckling softly.

"None. This technology is actually based on normal scientific principles instead of whatever the Covenant use, and it doesn't go to extreme lengths to guard its secrets. Some things might be different, but in the end most electronics will naturally develop along the same lines. There's only so many ways to make a transistor."

"Finally some sanity..." Whitcomb muttered. Halsey didn't blame him, she'd nearly been driven mad by the incomprehensible nature of Covenant technology many times as she tried to work on it. Many examples of Covenant engineering seemed to go against anything Halsey knew and understood. It was nice to work on something that wasn't one bad handling away from self-destructing for a change.

Whitcomb nodded. "I've talked with our resident spooks. They'll do their own sweep of the devices, then we'll bring one of the alien transports aboard the _Punic _to head back to Reach to start establishing the network."

"What about the Cole Protocol?" Catherine inquired.

Whitcomb seemed hesitant for a moment. "Admiral Cole has been working on a solution for our new allies. He has come to the _Trafalgar _to discuss matters of supply and logistics with the alien ambassadors. He's asked for you to join. He wants your opinion."

Halsey nodded, folded up her laptop and put it in her bag. "I'll talk to you later, Mordin."

-

Unlike the bustling negotiating chambers for the civilian and corporate advisors, the military leaders of both sides had chosen a much more ascetic atmosphere to discuss their plan of action.

Cole had compiled a list of colonies destroyed or discovered by the Covenant to give to the Citadel Council so they could begin their campaign against the Covenant. It would serve as a good start to their relationship and help to broker trust between their races. Whitcomb's suggestion to organize a formal military parade had been surprising to Cole, but he understood the intent. The first meeting between humanity and an alien race had resulted in war, but the first aliens who'd set foot on Earth would be allies. It would be a powerful symbol. He just couldn't decide how to do it.

His current plan was to offer passage aboard the UNSC _Punic _for the Citadel troops, as well as the construction ships that could build communication buoys. They would stop at Reach, deploy the buoys, and from there load the buoys onto ships that could spread them throughout UNSC space. It would take a month at most, and then the UNSC would gain access to nigh-instantaneous interstellar communications. The concept was very exciting to Cole, and he couldn't help but think just how this could affect the deployment of his battle fleets.

Matriarch Benezia, Primarch Fedorian, and Special Tasks Group Commander Jondum Bau were sitting at the other side of their table.

Cole slid the datapad across the table. "This datapad contains the coordinates of every world taken or compromised by the Covenant. I understand we might seem paranoid, but we have too much to lose. If you can retake these worlds and hold the Covenant at bay while we rearm and regroup, I can begin discussing with my government sharing more information with you. The greatest concern we have is the coordinates of our worlds; they are a closely guarded secret."

The aliens shared a glance of apprehension with each other. The salarian leant forward in his chair. "I understand your skepticism, but in the long run such measures will impede aid we can provide. We could provide you many times more war materials if you let us ship it directly to your worlds. Perhaps we can find a compromise until we've earned your trust."

Cole nodded at the alien to continue.

"We propose that we work together to construct a space station in New Ghent's orbit, which can serve as a waystation for supplies heading towards your worlds. Our cargo ships will ship them to this station, and you can then move them to where they are needed. Perhaps we could even lease you cargo ships, until the requisite trust has been earned and we are allowed to ship directly to your worlds."

Cole thought back to when he'd first drafted the Cole Protocol, remembering his reasoning. "The Cole Protocol was created in a time when we were incapable of beating the Covenant in battle, and this war was a slaughter. If this turns into an actual war, I can see about providing you with more information… or if the colonies in question are discovered by the Covenant."

Jondum Bau hummed. "Acceptable. We can construct this way station, and you will be responsible for shipping materials to your own worlds. We will be s"

Cole nodded. "Admiral Whitcomb will want to see what you plan to ship to us later. For now, let's make plans. By securing these fallen worlds you can provide the UNSC the time we need to recover. It will allow us to establish a comm buoy network, and both of us will be able to incorporate each other's technology in our designs and upgrade our ships. If this works, I can see about the Security Council giving your ships access to our core worlds for supply shipments."

The aliens glanced back and forth again, Cole thought he could see what looked like consternation or anger on the face of the asari. He didn't blame her - to some extent, he was stonewalling the Citadel. But it wasn't in his power to share the coordinates of hidden human worlds. Such a thing would require an unanimous decision by the Security Council.

Fedorian nodded solemnly. "Understood. Once the talks have been concluded, I'll tell our forces to move out within an hour. We'll be focussing on softer targets first before concentrating forces to hit the harder ones."

Jondum Bau spoke up next. "The Special Tasks Group will begin deep infiltration missions in Covenant space to find high value targets. Even if our fleets can not safely operate that far behind the enemy lines, we can send in special forces."

There was a knock at the door. The guards opened it to admit Admiral Whitcomb and Doctor Halsey.

"Ah, Admiral Whitcomb. We were waiting for you. You're speaking on behalf of the Security Council. I need your permission to authorise supply shipments from the Citadel Council." Cole said, sliding a datapad over as Whitcomb sat down. "The woman is Doctor Catherine Halsey, one of our finest scientists. She'll help with the technological exchange between our governments."

Whitcomb nodded. "I take it our plan of a waystation has been approved by both sides."

"Indeed." Primarch Fedorian said. "It's a good compromise for the time being. But the only issue might be your logistics. When on a full war footing, we will be able to ship you so much material that you might not be capable of handling it all."

Cole raised an eyebrow. "Just how much are we talking about?"

Matriarch Benezia leant forward and smiled. "Everything from food to fusion power plants. Fifty million turians have signed an extranet petition to be allowed to gift their personal firearms, and that's not even counting the sheer amount of military surplus we can send your way. If not for cargo space, we could send you a rifle and a sidearm for each human. The asari and salarian governments can modify surplus armor and provide your army with suits until you're able to develop your own variants."

Cole couldn't believe what he was hearing. These aliens were offering to send them twenty billion guns. Obviously not at the same time, but the idea was still almost ludicrous. He quickly shook it off and nodded. "I see… Well, in the event this theoretical way station can't handle the amount of cargo we receive, we can consider alternatives. But I'd like to know what you want in exchange."

Cole noticed that Halsey was furiously taking notes.

Bau nodded. "We are intrigued by your artificial intelligences, as well as your faster-than-light drives. We want an equal trade. You'll provide us with the knowledge base required to create smart AI and build slipspace engines, and we shall do the same regarding mass effect-based technologies, from infantry weapons to FTL drives, and extend you a generous line of credit on top of donations of surplus equipment. From what we've been able to discern, these technologies are ubiquitous in human civilization and not owned by individual corporations. Open source technology for open source technology. An equivalent exchange."

Cole glanced at Halsey for her opinion on the matter. Seeing her cue, she spoke up. "Admiral Cole, I think this exchange would be fair. We'd be trading technologies which neither of us would be able to keep a secret. Anyone with access to a library can figure out the mechanics of a slipspace drive, same with their mass effect technology. This way, we'll teach each other, and we can discuss proprietary technologies belonging to private or public corporations some other time."

Cole considered it. Dozens of corporations in human space had the technology needed to create an AI, and papers on the workings of slipspace drives could be found in a library. Keeping them secret in the long term would be hard, and the UNSC could cash these chips in right now for great benefits. And if he understood the aliens correctly, the same counted for their technologies. Keeping them secret would be like trying to stop the other from figuring out how electricity worked.

"That would be a reasonable trade." Whitcomb said. "Doctor Halsey will assist you with these technologies, in exchange for your scientists assisting ours with developing our own mass effect-based technologies. The _Trafalgar _will remain in orbit of New Ghent to defend it from the Covenant, and in the meantime it can serve as the R&D site for this project, as well as a base from which to explore the Covenant Battlecruiser, and the burried ship on the surface."

Jondum Bau muttered something to Benezia, before speaking up again. "Excellent. We can begin assisting your scientists in developing their own hardsuits immediately, while Doctor Halsey helps us in AI research and constructing our first slipspace drives."

Primarch Fedorian held up a hand to pause Benezia as she was about to speak. "There's another thing I'd wish to discuss on behalf of the Hierarchy. We've learned much abount the Covenant from recent engagements, but not as much as we would have liked. We need human advisors, scientists and technicians with experience in countering the Covenant's tactics and negating their technological advantage. We're working on overhauling our fleet and ground forces, but we need people with first hand expertise. Be it Covenant naval doctrine, ground tactics, weapons, armor, or specialist equipment - we need to know as much as possible. We also need to know what kind of materials you use to produce your tanks. They are much more capable of withstanding sustained fire from Covenant plasma weapons."

Cole thought this over for a second, and decided that it made sense.

"Dove." He said to the Smart AI he knew was watching them. "Assemble a list of veterans, officers, mechanics, and combat engineers with the knowledge and skill sets the Primarch asked about. They'll join the research and development efforts already in progress aboard the _Trafalgar_."

"Understood, Admiral." Dove's voice came out of Cole's datapad.

Fedorian muttered something under his breath. It sounded like a curse. The slip up was only momentary, though, and the Primarch quickly assumed a nonchalant posture again.

Cole would have lied if he said he didn't enjoy the prospects of technological and scientific cooperation between the two sides. An exchange of tactics and intelligence would be even better. He could teach alien admirals some of his own tricks, learned over more than a decade of war. The notion was strange, but not unwelcome.

Cole continued, "I imagine a handbook on the Covenant's naval tactics and the counters to them, based on our compiled knowledge about their tactics and strategy, would be of use to your forces. I'll also see about providing a similar manual for army officers, and one for soldiers and squad leaders." He glanced at Halsey. Cole already knew whose knowledge he would suggest to tap for the latter handbook.

Fedorian smiled; Cole had to resist the urge to flinch at the uncannily human expression. "Excellent. Then military matters are settled. To sum everything up: New Ghent will serve as a strongpoint and a logistics hub for UNSC and Citadel forces. Joint research and development projects will start aboard the _Trafalgar _for the time being. We will provide ships to set up a comm buoy network in UNSC space, and they will be transported aboard the _Punic_. When the UNSC has had time to regroup, we can begin joint offensives in Covenant space."

Benezia took over without missing a beat. "Now on to civilian matters. Vice Admiral Whitcomb mentioned a parade and a formal signing of an alliance. I believe it would be best if the forces picked for the parade left aboard the _Punic_. You can search them if you want. We propose they consist of the forces that fought on New Ghent, along with a small UNSC contingent."

Cole eyed Whitcomb and tried to decide quickly if he should veto bringing the ambassadors to Earth. On the one hand, he felt it could be a security risk, but on the other, the UNSC was lost without a miracle, and he certainly recognized the propaganda value. "I agree with Admiral Whitcomb. But certain security precautions must be taken. The forces will be transported aboard the _Punic_, and they will all be subject to a thorough search. No recording or scientific equipment will be allowed either."

Cole would personally recommend the parade take place during a bright day, preferably somewhere the nights were short, and be very cautious about information quarantine. This could be a risk, but the situation on Earth had been hopeless when he'd last been there. Doing this could be worth the risk if it could revitalize the war effort and galvanize the people to throw everything they had at the Covenant.

Benezia nodded. "Acceptable. But please remember. There are only so many concessions we can make before the war effort starts to suffer. When we have stable long-term communications, and fleets of cargo ships ready to support you, we expect the most to be made of them." There was a steely undercurrent to what she said.

The Primarch led out a sound akin to an avian growl. "I'll go. I'll make it a formal state visit. But consider that my final concession. After our forces have retaken your border worlds and allowed you to recover, we expect much more cooperation on your part."

Cole was surprised at seeing the normally calm turian snarl. He'd have to try and mediate the UNSC's paranoia if they were to make the most of this alliance.


	31. Chapter 31

**1600 hours, May 21, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)**  
**Hangar Deck Four, UNSC Trafalgar, New Ghent system**

"So. That's that." Primarch Fedorian muttered, glancing at the other Citadel representatives. They'd moved back into the shuttle to discuss what they'd arranged with the humans. "What do you think, Matriarch Benezia? Can they be coaxed out of their paranoia?" he asked the Matriarch in question.

Benezia thought it over and then replied coolly, "Necessity will eventually force their hand. When their depots are packed so full of supplies they don't have room anymore, they will open up in order to be able to process all the aid we'll offer."

Jondum Bau raised an eyebrow. "You'd set up the scenario in such a way the humans will willingly give us what we want and think they came up with the idea themselves?" He nodded curtly. "Efficient. I agree. We'll just keep shipping them so many supplies that they'll eventually change the arrangement in order to accomodate all the shipments."

Fedorian frowned. Benezia clearly was a slicker negotiator than he'd initially thought when they departed for New Ghent. She'd used platitudes, well-placed words, and precise argumentation in order to make the humans do what was best for the war effort while thinking they did it for themselves. As Primarch of Palaven he had experience with this sort of thing, but that didn't change that this didn't sit too well with him. He preferred to be blunt in diplomacy. Still, this was why the Citadel Council existed: their races could combine their respective strengths to get the best possible result.

"I'll start writing my speech for the parade. I'll be coordinating with Admiral Cole about that. A crash course on their history would be useful here. Find anything I can refer to to make it resonate better with those listening. It's also time we gave them the full history of the Citadel."

Matriarch Benezia smiled. "Excellent."

The turian Primarch continued, "After Earth, I will be returning to Palaven. Fleet Admiral Karandis will assume my position in the Citadel Expeditionary Force. Benezia, has Matriarch Aethyta been briefed properly enough to take the asari seat on the War Council?"

Benezia nodded. "She has. She'll be an excellent military leader. I've contacted Tevos, and she told me to act as the ambassador to the UNSC. I'll be staying there for the time being."

Jondum Bau spoke up next. "I'll remain here then. I'll be working from New Ghent to coordinate our intelligence and research efforts. STG cells are much better in a support role. I'll be splitting the salarian army and fleet into detachments and attaching them to the Citadel Expeditionary Force. I suggest Matriarch Aethyta does the same with the asari military contingent. The turians are much better suited to this type of war. Now that we know what we're facing, I believe it was a mistake to come as three separate forces; we'll need the Citadel Expeditionary Force to be a joint command. Admiral Karandis will lead our space forces, Matriarch Aethyta the ground forces, and I'll be coordinating intelligence. The STG detachment, Citadel Expeditionary Force, is at your disposal."

Primarch Fedorian mulled it over. "That seems a prudent course of action," he agreed, already writing up orders on his omni-tool. Orders signed by his personal codes and biometric identifiers which would command the tactical and strategic VIs of the turian fleet to inform the Citadel forces of the reorganisation. There were contingencies and protocols to form a joint Citadel task force. It was just a matter of putting them into action.

"The orders have gone out. We'll begin reorganizing immediately. Commander Bau, I'll depart for Earth alongside our "parade" forces. I trust that you'll inform the War Council of our goals."

Jondum Bau nodded. "Consider it done." He paused. "It's been a great honor working alongside the two of you. I hope we'll meet soon under better circumstances."

"That we shall, Bau," Fedorian replied, cracking a rare smile.

"One last thing, Fedorian." Benezia said. "The UNSC and Citadel have both sent first contact packages, but I think it's time that we talked with them and revealed the things we've conveniently left out. They require our assistance, and they know what we have to offer. I think now would be a good time to tell them the whole truth. Get it over with."

-

Primarch Fedorian knocked on the door to Whitcomb's office. The guards standing on either side were noticeably ill at ease due the presence of an alien next to them. To their credit, the unease was barely visible.

The door slid open, showing Vice-Admiral Whitcomb at his desk, looking over some files.

"Primarch Fedorian, Matriarch Benezia, take a seat. How can I help?" The human pointed at a pair of simple chairs around a table evidently set for small meetings.

Benezia strode forward into the room, taking a seat, followed by Fedorian. "I've been contacted by my government and asked to serve as the official Ambassador to the UNSC. If we're to take that step, I think it's time that we both share our true histories, so that there are no secrets between us."

Vice-Admiral Whitcomb narrowed his eyes. "I assume you're talking to me instead of Admiral Cole, because he is not on the Security Council?"

Benezia replied, "This alliance is fragile and any secrets could damage it. We will give you the truth, but in exchange, we expect the same. If we find out you didn't tell us the truth, you can expect repercussions."

Whitcomb nodded slowly. "A harsh demand. But understandable. We're talking purely history? What you can read about in any history book?"

"Yes. Facts that would be easy to uncover after we've worked together for long enough. The details which would be impossible to hide. We want to get those out of the way before they become a hindrance," confirmed Benezia.

"Alright, that makes sense. Its not like those things will remain a secret for long." Whitcomb said. "You've given enough concessions for now. I'll share what you could learn from talking to an average citizen. No point in hiding those things."

Sighing heavily, Whitcomb began. "Early in our history of interplanetary colonisation, we had a brutal war called the Interplanetary War that nearly brought humanity to ruin. This war was fought over ideology, and it decided UNSC policy for centuries to come."

Primarch Fedorian nodded. "Such conflicts are an unfortunate regularity in galactic history. We fought a war like it ourselves."

This seemed to put the Vice Admiral at ease.

"This is the reason the UNSC does not allow any form of secessionism - the fear of a return to those days. We've had a golden age and centuries of peace, during which we discovered FTL travel and settled what we now call the Inner Colonies. These were colonized in the 24th century for the most part."

Benezia smiled at Whitcomb. "That sounds like the First Asari Expansion Wave. We have a lot in common."

Whitcombe smiled back. "Eventually we loosened colonization restrictions, and hundreds of new colony expeditions launched to found what we nowadays call the Outer Colonies. But due to the great distances involved, these colonies began to diverge…"

"And they rebelled," Fedorian joined in. "I assume you brought them back into line?" The situation reminded the Primarch of the Unification War that turians once went through. It would be a good thing to keep in mind when he made his speech. It was best to mention subjects humans could relate to.

Meanwhile, Whitcomb continued. "We at first tried to negotiate with the rebels, but due to corruption in our colonial administration many colonial forces defected to them instead. The insurrection quickly radicalized: for decades before the Covenant came in 2525, we'd been mired in a bloody insurgency that led to millions of deaths. Both sides kept escalating; even nuclear weapons came into play at some point. Fighting eventually spread to the Inner Colonies, and the rebels were very indiscriminate in their attacks. If not for the Covenant, we would most likely have destroyed - or at least crippled - ourselves eventually."

Now this did remind Fedorian strongly of the Unification War. "That's almost exactly like what happened to the turians in our Unification War. But we never stopped the secessionists.

"Instead, most rebellious colonies seceded and were taken over by warlords that began warring upon each other, while the loyalists dug in and let them fight things out. The rebels fought each other for several years in bloody wars that left whole colonies devastated."

Fedorian grinned wickedly. "Then, when the separatists had weakened each other, we struck. Within two years we'd retaken every colony, and within three decades all pockets of rebellion were crushed."

Whitcomb cupped his chin, looking lost in thought. Then he nodded. "That sounds like something the UNSC might have done if the situation kept deteriorating. Now it's your turn. Tell me what you didn't put in your first contact package."

"You've read of the Rachni Wars, I assume? It was in the package."

"The basics. Three centuries of galactic war against an insectoid race. Nasty." Whitcomb muttered. "I don't even want to know how hopeless humanity would get after three centuries of losing a war. Seventeen is bad enough." He gave a pained chuckle, as if he was trying to convince himself of something.

"And the krogan?"

"A reptilian race that led an uprising after aiding in defeating the rachni. What about them?" the vice-admiral asked. "The first contact package said they tried to conquer the rest of Citadel space due to their explosive reproduction. Seems like a lousy way to thank someone for lifting you out of radioactive muck."

Benezia shook her head. "This happened before the turians joined the Citadel Council. The krogan were uplifted by the salarians a century into the Rachni Wars. They were the only species who could withstand the toxic environment of rachni homeworlds, and they bred as fast as the rachni. We gave them worlds, weapons and fleets. And for two centuries the krogan and the rachni died by the billions each year. After two hundred years, the krogan assaulted the rachni homeworld after the queens refused to negotiate. The krogan set off thermonuclear and antimatter bombs in their hives and wiped out the rachni as a result."

Whitcomb grit his teeth, then looked up the first contact package again. "And this was more than a thousand years ago? Sounds like if you'd lost this war, we would have been exterminated by the rachni before humanity ever left Earth. I guess we should be thankful for that." Whitcomb said bemusedly. "Or the Covenant would have eventually gotten to those bugs, I guess."

Benezia continued. "After this, we rewarded the krogan for their service. Made them galactic peacekeepers, gave them dozens of worlds, celebrated them for decades. But the krogan were drunk on their victory. They kept breeding no matter how many times we asked them to stop. They drank worlds dry and destroyed whole ecosystems, and when they left a world a barren husk, they went to the next. We tried diplomacy, but they refused each request to limit their expansion."

Benezia sighed with the weariness of a thousand years. "Then they began conquering worlds belonging to other races. We gave them an ultimatum to stop. The krogan refused. We declared war and opened with a preemptive attack against their military industry. But they just recovered from a blow that would have crippled any other species."

Whitcomb nodded slowly. "You should have struck earlier, the moment you saw how fast they bred, when they made clear they wouldn't stop." He stated bluntly.

"Yes. We should have. It would have saved many lives. The Krogan were merciless: they put populations of entire worlds in slave labor camps, if they didn't just eat them."

Whitcomb raised an eyebrow at that. "They sound like Brutes."

Benezia shivered. "The asari they subjected to genocidal slave labor programmes and the tender mercies of their soldiers, but they kept the salarians as slaves for their eggs. We resisted fiercely, but there were just too many of them. Hope seemed lost when we discovered the Turian Hierarchy."

Fedorian continued like they'd rehearsed. "We made contact with the asari, and when we learned of the Krogans we threw our might at them. We liberated many worlds in our early offensives, but there were just too many krogan: a single krogan female could lay a thousand eggs in a year, and they grew up fast. We were pushed back, and the krogan began targeting turian worlds. They slammed moons into our worlds and took no prisoners. At the turning point of the war, the krogan seemed poised to take Palaven, our homeworld."

Whitcomb's eyes went wide in surprise. "They crashed moons into worlds that resisted? Sounds like they had a lot in common with the Covenant. But… moons. That's a whole new level of destruction. How did you beat them?"

"Genetic engineering. The salarians created the Genophage - a bioweapon that attacked the krogan reproductive system, making only one in a thousand births viable. We delivered it to every krogan world, every krogan colony. They didn't stop their wasteful mass assault tactics and quickly began running out of troops." There was fire in Fedorian's voice. "We struck back, drove the Krogan back to their homeworld, and kicked them off every other world. We bombed Tuchanka back into a post-apocalyptic hell and then took the fight to the surface. It took decades, but eventually the main Krogan government surrendered. But many warbands remained; some still operate to this day, centuries later."

Benezia continued from there. "The Genophage left enough krogan alive that they should still have positive population growth. But they're just too proud and violent. Any attempt to negotiate a settlement is rebuffed, and any krogan warlord that tries to drag his people into the modern age is quickly killed by a jealous rival. Nowadays the krogan are a scattered people, slowly killing themselves off due to infighting, general violence and a refusal to change. It's a sad state of affairs."

"Why didn't you exterminate them?" Whitcomb asked.

"What?" Fedorian and Benezia blurted out at the same time.

Whitcomb looked directly into the Primarch's eyes. "If a race dropped moons on our colonies, and they had to be driven back to their homeworld before they even considered negotiations? We wouldn't have bothered invading their planet, we would have just nuked it until there was nothing but slag."

"And that's what you'd do to the Covenant, if you could?" Fedorian asked hesitantly.

"If I could, I would unleash a thousand Genophages upon the Covenant."

There was silence in the room, then Benezia hesitantly spoke.

"I can't even imagine how much the Covenant has hurt your people, and we will do everything we can to assist. But _genocide_ is not something we'll consider. Not now, hopefully never."

"Perhaps you say that now." Whitcomb admitted. "But if the Covenant were moments from glassing our homeworld… what would you do?" And then there was the unspoken question - what would the Citadel do if their homeworlds and their very survival were on the line?

Benezia went silent for a few seconds, then answered. "You're our allies. Your homeworld falling is considered unacceptable, just as our homeworlds being destroyed is unacceptable. We'd unleash the most horrific weapons we have, lift all restrictions we have if it came down to that."

"I understand." Whitcomb said. "I'll compile a report on this. Do you have more accurate historical texts o-"

"I'll have datapads containing a thorough report on the galactic history brought to you. Will you do the same?"

Vice-Admiral Whitcomb nodded. "I'll see to it. Thank you for your honesty. It's good to see you are as flawed as we are."


	32. Chapter 32

**1100 hours, June 6th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)**

**HIGHCOM, Reach, Epsilon Eridani system**

"Vice-Admiral Whitcomb, we sent you to make first contact and establish an alliance, which you have successfully done. But please explain why you've brought back five alien ships in the hold of the _Punic_ as well as three thousand alien soldiers," Hood asked slowlyas he looked at the "turian" sitting across from him. The guards in the room warily eyed the alien in their midst. Lord Hood didn't seem to know whether to be shocked, or amused.

The UNSC Security Council had been called for an emergency session when the UNSC Punic had returned from their diplomatic mission, reporting success and bringing word of an alliance and the precious cargo they had aboard. No one had expected a success this tremendous: instead of mere diplomatic contact, Whitcomb returned with technologies, ships and an alliance treaty.

The aliens aboard the Punic had nearly caused a panic when an ONI Dumb AI had detected them and identified them as Covenant stowaways during a post-slip inspection, declaring Winter Contingency across the system.

But cooler heads had prevailed and after the right clearance codes and authorisation had been exchanged, bloodshed had been avoided. Hood had quickly taken command of the entire operation and ordered a complete information blackout, and a quarantine of the ship, although it was too late to hide that something _huge_ was happening.

Much to Fedorian's chagrin, the Security Council had wanted to meet with him in person at FLEETCOM. While the Primarch headed to the surface, the Citadel contingent aboard the _Punic_ continued working on comm buoys and preparing for their arrival at the human homeworld. They rehearsed the parade in a cargo bay that had been set aside for them.

The first comm buoys for UNSC use were already being prepared for deployment. The prospect of instantaneous high-bandwidth interstellar communications pleased Whitcomb greatly. The UNSC was incredibly close to developing reliable slipspace-based interstellar communications, but even the best projections promised only limited bandwidth. Whitcomb hoped the Security Council would approve general deployment.

Primarch Fedorian continued. "Our alliance is already in effect. Before I left, I took the information graciously granted to me by Vice Admiral Whitcomb and Admiral Cole, and we deployed forces to human colonies that have been destroyed or compromised. This is not up for debate. We are already doing this." There was a stern edge to Fedorian's voice, with barely concealed annoyance.

Admiral Parangosky raised an eyebrow at that, her body language growing more hostile.

"Vice Admiral, I hope you have solid proof these devices are safe. Transporting alien communication devices is a serious breach of the Cole Protocol." She looked at the turian like a hunter sighting prey, then softened somewhat when she saw the stern gaze the Primarch gave her and nodded slowly in acknowledgement. "Although their generous assistance so far has spoken volumes. An exception can be made."

Admiral Whitcomb made to respond - Parangosky was a dangerous enemy to have, especially if she suspected a breakdown in intelligence - but Fedorian interjected before he could finish

"No more exceptions," Fedorian stated bluntly. "As I speak, almost twenty thousand ships from across Citadel space are reinforcing your frontlines and saving _your_ worlds." He pointed at Parangosky. "The sons and daughters of Palaven are raised from birth to be soldiers and uphold law and order in the galaxy. This war is what we are made for, and we refuse to let your paranoia impede the war effort. We _will_ establish a comm buoy network for our personal use and engage the Covenant wherever we can. You've been given a report of the deals made in New Ghent, and we expect you to meet us halfway."

There was silence in the room, the humans looking in mute shock at the alien who had just made such blunt demands from the most powerful governing body in the history of the human race.

Parangosky held up, preempting a question from Lord Hood, and leant forward. "Then what do you want, Primarch?"

Fedorian nodded. "I have had to explain our intentions far too many times by now, and I've reached the limits of my patience. The Citadel Expeditionary Force will be able to hold the front line against the Covenant for the foreseeable future. That gives you time to pull your armed forces back to your core worlds and rebuild your armies and fleets. While you do that, I want a unified command for our combined forces, or at the very least an admiral and a general to be assigned to your high command as liaisons, and a comm buoy in orbit of Reach so we can coordinate our efforts. Barring our fleets from entering your core systems is reasonable, but we expect full access to the worlds on the frontline."

Lord Hood spoke up next, eyes narrowed, his body language betraying his interest. "That's a serious demand to make. Still, going by Whitcomb's report on the meeting at New Ghent, we are indeed allies. But I want to know why you want us to cease offensive operations and hand them over to your forces; do you expect us to sit back for the rest of the war? Because that is _not_ going to happen. We're going to fight for our homes and lives."

Fedorian shook his head. "No, we expect nothing of the sort. While our naval forces are numerous, we lack supercapitals due to the way our FTL drives work. You are the only ones able to provide warships of this weight class. If the Citadel Expeditionary Force buys enough time, then you can rebuild your military into a force capable of spearheading assaults against the Covenant. I won't pretend the Citadel can win this war without your assistance, not without extreme absolutely horrific losses. We need bases, supply lines, and rear services and facilities - if you can't provide those, our ability to help you will be severely limited."

General Hogan of the UNSC Marine Corps leant forward, putting his hands together. "I hate to admit it, but you're right. Our forces are spread thin, and they have been pushed to their limits for far too long. Given time to breathe, the Marine Corps can be rebuilt and equipped for planetary assaults on destroyed worlds and, potentially, Covenant outposts, if you are willing to have your ground forces take over garrison duties in the hot spots for the time being. Our experience fighting the Covenant could be of use here."

Admiral Parangosky snapped at Hogan, "That's not your choice to make without our approval, General. There are too many risks involved that we can't afford to take. Primarch Fedorian, the agreement to guard our frontiers, establish way station and provide supplies, will be good enough for the time bei-"

"Enough, Admiral," Lord Hood said. "You know as well as I do that _we are losing._ This alliance could well be our only chance at survival. With the Citadel's aid, we can turn this into an actual war, one we stand a chance of winning. We need this communications network, and we need the supplies as well. The Department of Commercial Shipping will task available assets with shipping supplies from the station at New Ghent. Using the worlds already discovered by the Covenant as staging areas for the Citadel forces is a good idea, and we should expand on it. New Ghent can serve as a logistics hub and a rally point for our forces, and land on worlds compromised by the Covenant can be set provided to the Citadel Expeditionary Force, under lease, for the sake of the war effort, within reason."

Fedorian smiled. "Full military cooperation, but we don't get the coordinates of your inner worlds? Reasonable. If we can have Citadel freighters handle the logistics of our joint efforts as well, it will make it much easier for us to equip your forces."

"I see your point," Parangosky conceded. "Gambles like this have been necessary for humanity's survival so far. Speaking of liaisons, what about a holographic emitter and a secure COM channel to allow you to sit in with us during meetings? When applicable, of course."

Fedorian was taken aback by the sudden offer before surmising the plan: the Admiral offered a line for the Citadel representatives to sit in with the UNSC Security Council meetings when necessary, albeit one the UNSC could literally turn off with a flip of a switch. Still, he'd accept: concessions had to be made or she'd be able to claim he was too demanding. So, Fedorian merely smiled, "Excellent. The less barriers between our cooperation, the easier things will be."

Putting his hands behind his back, the Primarch continued, "With a constant line between our governments, diplomatic delays due to travel will be over. Our plan can go into effect immediately. The first shipments of hardsuits and weapons modified for human use should already be waiting in New Ghent. And the scientists aboard the _Trafalgar_ are, hopefully, making progress as far as the scientific cooperation goes. How you use the weapons and armor we supply is entirely up to you."

President Roselynn Charet of the UEG coughed. She was the black sheep of the Security Council, a remnant of the civilian government whose sole purpose was to approve what the Security Council told her to, and to provide a voice for the civilian matters the generals had a tendency to ignore. "As good as the equipment is. It matters little if the humanitarian crisis continues to escalate. Vital infrastructure and supplies are destroyed by the Covenant, survivors from glassed worlds stream into the Inner Colonies, and the systems closest to the invasion corridor are hit the hardest. We need food, medicine and temporary housing for refugees - anything you can spare, really. I know it doesn't sound important, but knowing their families are starving wreaks havoc on the soldiers' morale."

General Nicolas Strauss leant forward. "It's gotten to the point that even garrison forces are having their rations reduced. I'm sure we can arrange a trade of some kind for food imports. Perhaps you have genetically engineered crops superior to ours or better agricultural techniques? If your population really is in the trillions like your "codex" says, you must be able to feed them. Can we arrange that?"

Fedorian mulled this over, trying to think of the best way to help. "The hanar and the asari are known for their charity. I'll speak to them about providing humanitarian aid for the worlds in our area of responsibility. And I already know how you can aid us in exchange - we would like to establish a naval college where your veterans could teach our troops on the Covenant's tactics and the counters to them."  
Lord Hood responded after a moment of hesitation, "I have a better idea. Instead of us merely teaching you all we know, we set up a combined training center, both for space and planetary warfare. Also, the scientists onboard the UNSC _Trafalgar _should serve as a core of a joint research institute. We can provide facilities for both."

_1\. I removed the "cradle" part, as it would make _zero _sense for the UNSC to use one of their mobile refit stations as a basis for a _college.

Fedorian thought it over. He didn't like the UNSC's penchant for constantly re-negotiating details and adding caveats, but the supreme authority of the Security Council at least meant that whatever deal they made wouldn't be renegotiated or reneged on by anyone in the lower echelons of the government. Still, he liked the idea of building institutions dedicated to sharing knowledge, as well as expanding the joint technological research groups.

"If you can provide a place to house this "naval institute", we can provide a research station for the scientists currently aboard the _Trafalgar_. They are already examining the salvage from New Ghent. We should provide the mobile facilities we have on hand," the Primarch offered.

Lord Hood nodded. "It is a generous offer, but I think that is enough for now. You have a parade on Earth to attend. It is time people back home got back a bit of hope. By the time the _Punic_ gets to Earth, your forces at the frontier will have been able to relieve our troops. That should be an excellent announcement to herald your state visit."

Admiral Parangosky held up a hand suddenly, looking like she had just been struck by an idea. "If you set up the buoy network, how fast can you get in contact with your forces?"

"Instantly." Fedorian said.

Parangosky looked impressed for a moment, her body language becoming predatory again. "Then could you request combat footage from your forces on the frontier? Something that would prove to people that your intervention is having an effect?"

Fedorian nodded.

"Excellent. I will be sending an ONI propaganda team with the _Punic_ to compile a movie to show the civilians upon your arrival. If you set up your comm buoy network now, you'll be able to get a full report from your forces, correct?"

"Correct," confirmed Fedorian.

Parangosky then continued. "Then, as a measure of good faith, we'll ask you to use your Comm Buoy to contact your forces, then temporarily disable it, so we can set up a relay station somewhere the Covenant will have issue finding it. This way, your messages won't go directly to Reach, keeping its location secure if the Covenant somehow manages to learn of the network and compromise it somehow.."

"Not necessary. We could move the comm buoys away from New Ghent and to a relay station in a secure system, somewhere the Covenant are not likely to go looking for it; perhaps we could program the station to crash into a gas giant if the Covenant approach.. Let us call it Hub Alpha; you'll be able to inspect it and have the final say on the security setup. Hub Alpha will connect to New Ghent and to all systems the CEF will operate in. This then connects to Hub Beta via a single comm buoy, which you then connect to your inner colonies, where we cannot operate. Perhaps daisy-chain the connection between Alpha and Beta in order to throw off the Covenant."

Hood interceded. "This sounds like an excellent compromise. Give us the buoys, and we can set up Hub Beta within a month. In exchange, I'll see to it you're given the navigation data that will allow you to operate in the Inner Colonies if needed."

**1230 hours, June 6th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)**

**Bridge, UNSC Punic, low Reach orbit**

"Comm buoy initiaizing, Primarch." Ger Letanis, a recently transferred communications officer and newest member of Fedorian's entourage, reported. He'd risen to fame as a signals specialist in Admiral Karandis' command staff and was currently the foremost expert on human communication protocols.

Fedorian's general staff, the ONI representatives, and the officers of the _Punic_ watched on the supercarrier's bridge as the first comm buoy, released from the cargo bay where the ship that constructed it was still docked, floated out and into position. The buoy activated its positioning thrusters and oriented itself towards New Ghent.

"Let's see what we've missed while we were in slipspace." Fedorian muttered. The journey to Reach had taken two weeks, and in that time they'd had no contact with the outside universe.

There was a brief silence, then Letanis spoke up. "New Ghent buoy still active. Exchanging communications codes and ciphers." The ONI crowd on the bridge were talking to each other, their voices too low for Fedorian to make out, but they sounded conspiratorial. Meanwhile, the communications officer continued, adjusting something via his omni-tool, "One moment please, New Ghent is sending us a security patch. Downloading… and done. First data package coming through… now!"

"Priority messages first. What news do we have?" Fedorian asked.

"Research aboard the _Trafalgar_ proceeds as expected; several progress reports are included. Antimatter refineries at New Ghent are nearing completion. Construction of the UNSC "Super MAC" orbital platforms is proceeding at a steady pace. Covenant battlecruiser excavation still in progress, as is the work on cleaning up the derelict."

Turning to Fedorian, Letanis smiled. "Other Citadel races have joined the Citadel Expeditionary Force, chief among them the elcor, who are sending their tank-infantry to support the Asari Expeditionary Force. Moreover, volus contractors are moving into the system to assist with the construction efforts; the Citadel Council is paying them to turn the system into a fortress."

Fedorian nodded. The plans he'd set in motion before he left were evidently proceeding apace.

The communications officer turned back to the screen, putting a hand to the side of his head - the universal sign of receiving a message to an implanted communications device. "Reports of engagements with the Covenant coming in now."

Letanis paused. "The comm buoy network is expanding rapidly and approaching full operational capacity in the theater. Admiral Karandis has been moving the fleet in full force from system to system, establishing a foothold and detaching garrison and picket forces before moving to the next. The Covenant has so far not moved in force to engage the fleet; their presence is minimal in most systems" Letanis paused. "The Admiral has sent footage he believes has propaganda value for humans."

Fedorian nodded in approval, seeing the files, "Excellent initiative." He turned to the ONI team on the bridge. "Gentlemen, I am transferring you combat footage from our forces. I suggest you start working on that propaganda reel now." One of the humans looked about to object to being given an order by an alien general outside of their chain of command, but quickly relented.

Meanwhile, his communications officer continued. "Admiral Cole is asking us to relay a message to the Security Council. He is advising Admiral Karandis, Matriarch Aethyta, and STG Commander Jondum Bau in planning further actions of the Citadel Expeditionary Force. He's requesting the Security Council officially assign him to the joint command staff."

Fedorian wasn't sure what to think of that. Admiral Preston Cole was evidently a highly capable and experienced leader who also commanded immense respect from his peers and subordinates in the UNSC. Naturally, the Primarch welcomed his advice and expertise and was looking forward to hearing more of him. But Fedorian wasn't sure _why_ the Admiral was so eager to work with the Citadel. Many humans required at least a solid proof that the CEF was indeed working with them to get along, whereas Cole was pushing for full cooperation. Perhaps, as the admiral spearheading the fight against the Covenant, he'd known better than anyone just how desperate the situation was.

In that light, Fedorian believed that his demands before the Security Council were warranted: the sheer amount of bureaucratic red tape, stalling, and constant requests for information could only hamper the war effort in the long run. Therefore he had felt the need to be blunt, no matter how much he disliked resorting to such a… direct approach on the political battlefield.

Hopefully, this would change eventually.

_2\. I felt the need to cap this segment with a line that would make it feel… finished._

**0900 hours, July 20th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)**

**Earth**

"We are not alone." These words could be heard all over the world as ONI broadcast the announcement on all television and radio channels as well as public announcement speakers and Internet newscasts.

"Seventeen years ago Covenant began their unprovoked, genocidal war against humanity. Ever since we have stood alone against extinction, fighting a losing battle against an unstoppable foe." Several heads turned to look at that announcement. It was a surprisingly pessimistic start for a propaganda broadcast, and some had already assumed the announcement was going to be negative.

"Not anymore." Admiral Hood's voice across the planet.

"We have been contacted by a coalition of alien races called the Citadel Council. They are a galaxy-spanning alliance, and the Covenant goes against everything they stand for. Even now they are sending vast battle fleets to join us in the fight." The screens showed thousands of ships in orbit above New Ghent.

"Even now, twenty thousand ships are pushing the Covenant back, allowing the UNSC navy to regroup and consolidate for future offensives."

The screen changed to what had to be helmet UNSC marines advancing under the covering fire of massive quadrupedal aliens with heavy cannons on their backs. One of the marines rallied his comrades before jumping into cover and opening fire at a wave of Grunts that charged to meet them. The lumbering quarupeds let loose a thunderous stream of projectiles at the Covenant, shredding the hapless methane-breathing aliens. Then two Hunters stepped over the fallen Grunts and opened fire, streams of incendiary gel reaching out towards the camera. The footage stopped just before the impact and switched to another point of view, this time showing one of the quadrupeds driving a Hunter back with sheer volume of fire.

"Aliens have joined our cause, aliens like the elcor, tank sized creatures who finally give us a counter to the Hunters. These normally pacifistic aliens have provided their soldiers to serve as living artillery."

A blur of blue shot across the screen, stopping behind a Hunter, revealing it to be a humanoid figure in white armor and a helmet with a protuberance of sorts in the back. The newcomer slashed at the Hunter's back with a sword before punching into the creature's back with its free hand, pulling out a large handful of worms. The Hunter halted and dropped dead.

"Or the mystical asari, ancient beings with decades and centuries of combat experience and the ability to use gravity as if it were a mere toy."

Coming under fire, the asari whirled around and reached for the source - a ruined building where a few Covenant holed up. Enveloped in a blue glow, it clenched its fist, then _pulled_. The building collapsed as if pulled down an invisible force. The alien waved its sword in the air, a surviving Elite roaring and igniting an energy sword before charging the asari. The screen cut out before they clashed.

All eyes were now on the screens. People fell silent as they took in the unbelievable things on screen.

"This is footage from New Tokyo, where the asari and elcor helped shore up the defenses and push the Covenant off-world.

As the broadcast continued, frenetic excitement began spreading like a wildfire. In the bars that were open at this hour, quite a few patrons ordered rounds for everyone else - the occasion warranted it.

"Twenty three colonies have been discovered by the Covenant and were preparing for what was to come. But the turians - a martially inclined Citadel species - have lent their soldiers and industry to aid us. Primarch Fedorian, their head of state, will be making an official state visit to Earth today."

The screen changed to show avian aliens in blue armor digging in in nearperfect unison. Large fortresses of concrete and steel rose like mountains, guns and missile silos aimed into orbit. Airfields were filled with parked alien fighters and drones, being tended by mechanics. Humans were working alongside the new arrivals. Turians were also shown moving around improvised warehouses, organizing the distribution of food, water and medicine to civilians.  
"In addition to military and humanitarian aid, the Citadel has also shared its technological advances." The view switched to that of ODSTs examining strange-looking weapons and trying on strange orange gauntlets that looked like solidified holograms. "Energy shields, portable microfabricators and fully automatic electromagnetic small arms are just the tip of the iceberg." "

This time the screen showed to a group of ODSTs standing in a converted auditorium, filled with turians, the humans' every move recorded by camera drones. The aliens observed as the ODSTs pointed out the target dummies representing Elites, Hunters and Brutes and explaining their tactics, strengths and weaknesses. One particular ODST jumped onto the back of a dummy that represented a Brute Chieftain; an orange sheath, not unlike a hologram, appeared around his arm. Then an orange blade folded out of the "hologram", which the soldier then proceeded to stab into the Brute's neck.

"Of course, their troops have little experience fighting Covenant. But they are eager to learn from our veterans, whose knowledge will undoubtedly prove invaluable."

The view switched to that of a lab, wrecked Covenant machinery laid out on tables and slabs, humans in lab coats and amphibian-looking aliens in strange jumpsuits moving between the tables and examining the salvage. A few more of their number stood around a holographic screen having a heated debate about what looked like schematics or equations.

"The amphibian aliens you see now are salarians, the premier researchers in the Citadel space. On New Ghent, the finest scientists of the UNSC and the Citadel Council are working to reverse-engineer Covenant technology and integrate our own technology trees. Together we will undoubtedly find out the Covenant's secrets and make new breakthroughs and discoveries in years to come."

The perspective changed again, this time showing rotund aliens in pressure suits controlling swarms of drones as they oversaw transfer of large cargo containers from a half-assembled space station onto a waiting UNSC cargo ship.

"The volus are the backbone of Citadel's economy, and they have joined the fight as well, supplying both us and our new allies with finished products and raw materials. This will allow us to rebuild and adapt, as we move to reclaim our worlds and take the fight to the Covenant."

By this point, spontaneous celebrations had broken out in several cities, with people dropping everything to join in; some felt compelled just to hug random strangers in the street out of sheer joy. Soon crowds would be taking shops, bars and restaurants by the storm; fortunately, the owners, informed beforehand by the UNSC, made sure to stock up. Army troops, police and emergency services were also deployed in advance to maintain order and make sure celebrations didn't turn into a stampede. Still, no matter what, many would remember until their last days that moment - the realization that humanity was no longer standing alone against the night and the hope that realization brought.

Meanwhile, Lord Hood continued, "Still, we cannot let our new allies do all the work. It is time to strike back, and when the time comes, we will be there. We will need more manpower, more ships and more resources for the war effort. More sacrifices will undoubtedly follow. Yet, we are no longer alone in the universe, and together we will be strong. Together we will win."

**1130 hours, July 20th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)**

**Paris, French Republic, UEG constituent, Earth**

Fedorian had been able to watch the propaganda broadcast as it was being streamed on Earth. He had to give it to ONI: they certainly knew how to make a propaganda video about an event of that magnitude quickly. And it was certainly very… enlightening to see how _excited_ the humans were about the prospect of being able not to merely _survive _the war, but to win it on their own terms. Humans had clearly regained hope they lost long ago, and it looked like a species wide revival.

As Fedorian mused on this, his personal shuttle was guided towards a city called "Paris", trailed by an honor guard consisting of two UNSC frigates and a wing of the superheavy fighters humans were so fond of using. Trailing them was a convoy of transports carrying the Citadel forces that were tapped to "show the flag" on the human homeworld.

The shuttle set down on a wide street, the ramp dropping and giving Fedorian the first view any alien ever had of the human homeworld. It was a beautiful city, ancient buildings and monuments accentuated by skyscrapers and arcologies on the horizon. Not too far from his location he could see a large metal tower, the purpose of which he could not discern..

Ten thousand UNSC Marines and Army troopers in dress uniform lined the Avenue des Champs-Elysées, standing at attention as the Citadel's finest were about to march between them. The streets were filled with massive crowds of people, waving UNSC flags, banners, and other symbols of humanity. Camera drones were waiting for him, moving all around the shuttle.

Fedorian stepped off the shuttle, the first alien boot on Earth soil. The other transports began setting down in quick order, disgorging a veritable wave of soldiers in proper parade formation.

The turians comprised the vast majority of the parade contingent, reflecting the fact that they had been by far the largest military force at New Ghent at the time. Almost three thousand of Fedorian's finest soldiers marched in perfect lockstep across the ancient human streets, their armor shining in the sun.

Next came the asari. Each Commando Troop marched separately from the other, wearing their own unique colors and weapons, all resplendent in richly ornate uniforms prepared for just such an occasion. Their discipline was… less strict than that of the turians; some of the younger commandos waved back at the humans. The sight of one Commando Troop levitating caused the crowds to go wild.

The salarians were the smallest group, just a hundred strong. They had decided to march with their optical camouflage active, moving like shades across the parade grounds. Fedorian did not know why they'd decided to do so, but he figured the salarians had felt the need to show off in their own special way.

At the end of the parade ground stood a massive marble arch, flanked by a Scorpion tank on each side, with a line of ODSTs in full armor standing in front of them, weapons at the ready. In front of the monument stood a line of UNSC dignitaries, with a single wooden table in front of them.

A large sheaf of thick paper was lying on the table. On it was written an alliance treaty between the UNSC and the Citadel, as well as the declaration of their commitment to defeating the Covenant. Fedorian walked up to the table, took the pen he'd prepared for the occasion and signed it with a practiced flourish. Then he held the document up for everyone to see.

"We stand united!" the Primarch stated to the cameras, in the strongest voice he could muster. "Let this be the beginning of a Coalition that shall drive the Covenant into the abyss they crawled out of!"


	33. Chapter 33

**1100 hours, August 18th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)**

**UNSC Security Council chambers HIGHCOM**

General Hogan of the Marine Corps stood next to a large holographic screen and began pointing at statistics. "-the resettlement initiatives of refugees from the outer colonies continues. Thanks to the humanitarian aid supplies by the hanar we're finally able to process these refugees in a more timely fashion. We are working on sorting these refugees into groups depending on their training and education. First off: Anyone experienced with commanding any form of heavy equipment is being conscripted into the navy and put through a comprehensive series of training courses to fill out the ranks of the new fleets that Admiral Hood will elaborate on in a minute. " Hogan nodded at hood, and pointed at a large pie chart on the holographic screen, marking the part of the refugee population he was referring to.

Hood could see a revitalized spirit in General Hogan. The general had been losing weight, shaving better, and moved with a purpose he hadn't seen in the man for years. The renewed UNSC successes had lit a fire in the general, one that was shared even by Hood. They were pushing the Covenant back reliably. Fleets were returning victoriously to naval dockyards. Navy officers got leave for the first time in almost a decade. There was a true revival of the spirit of humanity, one that could be seen in every part of society.

"Next up. With the current state of the UNSC military being the way it is, especially our officer corps, we have begun a program of reorganization to expand our armed forces. New NCO's and officers are being selected to fill vacant positions, as well as to lead the new conscripts. The current goal is to use the UNSC Marines and UNSC Army as a core around which to expand our armed forces, as new equipment is produced, and new officers are trained. We believe that doubling our armed forces will be possible within the decade."

"Those unable to function in the Navy, or the ground forces, are instead put to work in other fields. Teachers and medical professionals are being given new positions in rebuilding cities. We believe that within a year, most of the refugees will no longer be refugees, but part of a revitalized war economy. Those lacking in vital skills are instead being given roles in agriculture. The potato harvest will be quite good this year." Hogan chuckled, and even Parangosky grinned. Hood did so as well, only to stop and think when he'd last laughed inside these chambers. He couldn't for the life of him remember the last time Parangosky had cracked a smile.

Hogan activated his Omni-tool, set to a calm blue color, and swiped across the screen. Everyone in the Security Council had been given one, the first human-produced Omni-tools ever made. Although they were just copies of Asari ones so far, they were a promising start. The screen changed to show a UNSC Marine in standard armor, with several glowing blue nodules in strategic locations.

"At the request of the Citadel, we've moved the researchers onboard the Trafalgar into Citadel Space on the planet of Telvanis. There they've set up a large Joint Research Initiative, alongside the Coalition Naval, and Infantry academies. So far they're making excellent progress on combining our technologies, as well as examining salvaged Covenant technology. ONI has expanded the Materials Group, with a new section called Eezonic Materials Group, made up of ONI employees, as well as representatives from most major Military-Industrial corporations. Their role is to coordinate the introduction of Citadel weapons and armor technologies into the UNSC, as well as serve as mediators between UEG Corporations, and Citadel ones. This collaboration is quickly bearing fruit, as I'll explain today."

"We are also working on our first field deployments of Citadel-provided equipment. As of right now, we are deploying "Kinetic Barrier upgrade kits" to our men in the field. They allow a soldier to remove the ceramic plates in their armor, and replace them with ones with built-in emitters. Early testing has indicated the chances of a UNSC soldier to survive a plasma bolt has almost doubled. Although the shielding cannot block the heat of Covenant plasma, it is capable of protecting them from glancing hits that would otherwise cause debilitating thermal injuries. ONI Materials Groups is currently examining the devices in more intricate detail. They claim it should be feasible for us to produce our own before the end of the year. We are looking for a contractor to take up this task. In the meanwhile, we have placed an order with the Elkoss Combine for enough emitters to upgrade another million armor sets."

Hood took notes. The UNSC was spending damn near every last credit it had to spare on importing from Citadel Space. The line of credit the Citadel had offered in exchange for the initial technological trades was already gone, used to pay for large scale civilian reconstruction initiatives. And the UNSC had started racking up debt with the Citadel.

"The newest shipments of Hardsuits and Mass Accelerator rifles are being given to our forces in order of seniority and skill. So far, we are equipping the Spartans first, then the ODST's, and finally the Marine Corps and Army. which brings us to the next subject. Firstly. Armor."

The screen changed to show a human wearing a sleek suit of alien armor, next to an Asari in the same armor. "Asari and Salarian morphology is close enough to ours, that we are capable of modifying their armor to be worn by our soldiers. Although these will only fit female soldiers reliably, requiring extensive refitting for males. The Batarian Hegemony representatives in New Ghent have offered to start selling us their military equipment. Not surplus, but the same as their military forces. These suits can be worn by human males without retrofitting being required. Eezonic Materials Group has analyzed the proposals and recommended that asari armor be given to female soldiers, and batarian Hardsuits to male ones. As a stopgap while we get our production facilities online. Any objections?"

There was murmuring in the Security Council, then Parangosky spoke up. "I don't trust the Batarians from what I've learned about them. But bad armor is better than none. I agree, but only so long their armor matches our standards. Major General Strauss?"

The aging general of the Army nodded. He looked overworked from managing the many army redeployments since the Turians took over many garrison postings. But the man looked healthier if a bit hollow-eyed. Hood sometimes suspected Strauss had PTSD, but no test had proven it. In any case, Strauss had the loyalty of his men, and a keen sense of logistics. "Same price as the ones we way for Asari suits. Not a credit more. Things are getting expensive enough as is."

There were nods of agreement in the security council.

"Then onto our first designs of Hardsuits." General Hogan deftly waved his hand, and changed the screen to a line of marines in what looked like some type of ODST armor, but with noticeable changes. Namely, a complete absence of any kind of fabric, and the addition of glowing blue nodules. Each marine had a different color scheme, from jungle war to arctic.

"Eezonic Materials Group was ordered to design the first generation of UNSC hardsuits and has made excellent progress. It will be made completely with UNSC materials, except for its power supply. We will be using an asari-designed hydrogen fuel cell, which while not as powerful our miniature fusion reactors (see the Mjolnir program), is cheap enough to finally make the full deployment of powered armor for all infantry economical. The armor itself will have a frame partially based upon SPI, but also Asari design principles. We are improving thermal resistance by incorporating UNSC Hellbringer armor."

"Eezonic Materials Group was also asked to design a new suit for the ODST's and came up with an ingenious solution. They took the design schematics for SPI armor, and completely rebuilt it from the ground up with the lightweight compressed ceramics and alloys used by the Citadel.".

Another wave of the Omni-tool and the armor got replaced with a suit of Semi-Powered Infiltration armor. It was bulkier and had its iconic helmet replaced with an ODST one. "The armoring itself is largely made up of the same Titanium A components used for normal ODST armor, but with improvements in almost every way. From an expanded internal exoskeleton that compensates for the weight, to integrated dual-arm Omni-tools. The photoreactive armor can be added or removed depending on the mission profile. So far we have designed an aquatic, mountain warfare, deep space, and CQC version of each suit."

Parangosky spoke up. "What about Spartans. Any technological improvements we can apply to them?"

"Citadel Hardsuits do not have the sheer protection or power enhancements of Mjolnir armor, but we are working on adding Kinetic barriers to each suit of Mjolnir armor. Integrating Omni-Tools. And making some minor changes to certain parts of Mjolnir plating. Doctor Halsey has suggested the addition of a thin layer of Citadel Ceramics atop each Mjolnir's titanium plate, beneath the refractive coating. Experiments will start tonight."

Nobody raised any objections.

"The Spartan III program has requested a modified hardsuit incorporating SPI technology, and this is also being worked on as we speak. There are trials to see if Citadel active camouflage technology can be combined with either SPI or scavenged Covenant cloaking technology, although no progress has been made on this front. For now, we're working on getting the Salarians to share with us their cloaking technology. They have shown interest in a trade of some kind. They're requesting that in exchange for their active camo technology, we trade them our Anti-Vehicle Model 6 Grindell/Galilean Nonlinear Rifle or the "Spartan Laser". Are there any objections to this trade?"

Strauss raised a hand. "Would this not be covered by our joint research initiatives?"

"I'm afraid not." General Hogan mutter conspiratorially. "The joint research and development initiatives only covers the technologies discovered and created -by- said initiative. It doesn't apply to any existing technology that isn't open source or public domain. So while we can not just demand any of their technology be shared for free with us, neither are we expected to share our own."

"I see. That is a reasonable request. Have a trade agreement drafted stating that any improved version of active camo, or the Spartan Laser, must be shared if it sees general deployment on the battlefield. Any objections?"

There were none.

Hogan nodded. "I'll send the word to Special Materials. Now. Weaponry."

The image on the screen changed to show a single MA5 pattern rifle, next to a turian Phaeston rifle.

"I'll be blunt. The ability of Mass Accelerators to last indefinitely in the field without a logistical footprint makes them a superior weapon for general use. You merely need an Omni-tool with the ability to recycle raw material into Omni-gel and then convert this into replacement parts for your rifle, or into feedstock. We'll begin designing our versions as soon as we can, to alleviate our supply lines going forward. We believe we can reduce ammunition shipments by up to ninety percent if we go through with a full conversion."

Hogan straightened his collar. It no longer fit as snugly around his neck like before the General started losing weight. "Eezonic Materials started a design competition for the new rifle, and we've received a few interesting concepts. But we have no ETA on when this will be complete. In the meantime, the Turian Hierarchy will continue providing us with their surplus Phaeston rifles. Although their continuing mobilization is putting pressure on supply. Other citadel conglomerates, charities, and even the Batarians are offering to supply us with Mass Accelerator rifles. Not Phaestons. But they'll be good enough for garrison duties."

"This brings me to the next subject. Integrating our new imports. Our logistics system is being swamped in surplus weapons and armor. Thankfully each rifle is logistics neutral. We're categorizing each weapon we receive in New Ghent and distributing them as appropriate. Either for frontline deployments, garrison duty or handed out to civilian militias. But as we move towards producing UNSC hardsuits and mass accelerators, I feel it's important we decide beforehand how to deal with the surplus we'll create. I propose we accept all contributions until we've equipped our armed forces with a homegrown version of Mass Accelerators and Hardsuits. At which point, anything we've received that does not match our standards will be relegated to mothballing or recycling."

There were murmurs of assent, then a series of nods from all assembled. "Excellent. On to heavy weaponry."

"We're negotiating with the Hierarchy for their Singularity Projectors, and they've agreed to trade Spartan Lasers for Singularity Projectors. As the Element Zero technology involved in these weapons is complicated, it will be a weapon reserved for ODST's and Spartans. The Coalition Joint Research Institute is making excellent progress on teaching our scientists and engineers the abilities of Eezo, and we should be able to create Singularity Projectors within five years."

Parangosky quickly scribbled something down. Hood had always found it peculiar she kept a notepad on her at all times. Then again, he surmised it was safer for her to keep small notes in a way that couldn't be hacked remotely. He kept all ONI politics at an arm's length. He just nodded at General Hogan

General Hogan beamed as he began the next part. "Now. I have excellent news about UNSC armored forces. I'll start with our armored vehicles."

General Hogan took a step back from the projector and swiped his Omni-tool to move to an image of a UNSC Grizzly. "The Grizzly was intended to replace the Scorpion as our standard MBT, but the loss of vital manufacturing hubs and stockpiles of rare earth elements has left our production of these materials anemic, to say the least. I am glad to say this is no longer the case. Thanks to Volus mining conglomerates opening their markets to us, we'll finally be able to produce enough Grizzly tanks to replenish our armored regiments to pre-war levels. In essence. We are looking at the revitalization of our tank forces into once again being able to seriously contest Covenant advances."

Major General Nicolas Strauss spoke up. "And about time. When this war started, just a handful of Grizzly tanks could completely disrupt a Covenant landing. It will be great for morale when these beauties return to duty."

General Hogan smiled contentedly. "Onto other vehicles. Ushuaia Armory has recently informed Eezonic Materials Group that they've found a partner in Armax Arsenal to produce components for the AC-220 gunship. Promising they'll be able to restart production to pre-war levels if we authorize their deal. They intend to collaborate on an eezo enhanced version of the Vulture for both our nations. In light of the complete absence of Vultures in 90% of Marine Corps deployments, I am inclined to agree. Any objections?"

Parangosky took another note, then stood up straight. "It would seem to me, that our corporate sector is ready and eager for any kind of cooperation with the Citadel's substantial corporate sectors. Having to greenlight any trade or exchange will just see us drown in red tape. I have a proposal for a set of guidelines for these kinds of deals, I will explain at the end of the meeting. But for now, I see no reason to refuse this cooperation."

Danford Whitcomb spoke up for the first time in the meeting. "I must agree. Being able to launch precision gunships from orbit will open up many tactical options. And also on what Parangosky has said. Basic rules on cooperation and outsourcing between Human and Alien corporations should be hammered out quickly. But back on schedule."

Hogan turned off his Omni-tool, and the screen went back to a flat blue display. "Then I believe it's time for Admiral Danford to talk about naval matters on the front, after which Hood can explain our planned naval buildup."

Vice Admiral Whitcomb got up from his chair and walked up to the large screen, he activated his Omni-tool and took over control, navigate to the presentation he'd prepared.

Danford spoke in a plain, but authoritative voice. "First off. With the Citadel pushing back against the Covenant for the first time in this godforsaken war, we will finally have the breathing room needed to restore our fleets. For this purpose. The Citadel is establishing a new defensive doctrine, proposed by Admiral Cole to the Coalition High Command."

Hood nodded. He still needed to get used to the existence of a military body, not under direct Security Council command, which was in charge of thousands of ships, and millions upon millions of troops spread throughout UNSC space. However, Cole's quick thinking had given the UNSC an equal position in the Coalition High Command, and the ability to veto fleet maneuvers that would endanger the human core worlds. So far, however, cooperation had been without major disagreements.

Victory did that. Hood noted smugly.

Danford pressed a few buttons on his Omni-tool and after some fumbling, the holographic emitter at the center of the room lit up to show a full map of the front. "Let me begin with a summary of our strategic position as of today's messages."

The holographic map changed to show a large collection of green stars, representing UNSC worlds, surrounded by an ocean of purple, with a large bulge heading directly into the core of the UNSC worlds, narrowing the further it punched into UNSC space. "The invasion corridor. Now, observe the Citadel disposition." The border regions between UNSC and Covenant space changed to a yellow, roughly five light-years wide across its duration. It looked like a protective layer across UNSC space, which it was, from a certain point of view. "The Citadel has taken up our former border positions and are probing for weaknesses in the Covenant lines. Taking all undefended systems, while massing a fleet of thousands of ships to take out Covenant strongpoints. Inspired by this, the Coalition High Command has reorganized our combined forces in a triple-layered disposition."

Whitcomb changed the image to a five by five square, each representing a sector of the front.

Yellow circles appeared in the top five squares. "Firstly. The forward line consists of Salarian Union, and Turian Hierarchy fast attack ships, around a core of cruisers. These garrisons serve to delay small scale covenant incursions and to warn us of large offensives. While largely defensive, these fleets have standing orders to probe the systems around them and take undefended ones. Meaning our frontline is simultaneously defensive, and capable of offensives at short notice. We call these FEF's. Forward Expansion Forces. As they expand, they will tow our Slipspace Listening Posts further forward, or guard our construction ships as they expand the network. Thanks to Comm Buoys, we are capable of complete 24/7 coverage of the entire front. Nothing slips past. Pardon the pun. So far, this system has allowed us to detect forty Covenant fleets trying to break past our lines, most of whom turned engines and left when faced with the next part of the line. In the event an FEF is faced with overwhelming force, they are to break off and hide in a gas giant's atmosphere, then move to engage Covenant supply convoys."

Hood nodded in approval. The Citadel's ships while individually weaker, were incredibly numerous, making it possible to cover almost the entire front. He carefully observed the next part.

Whitcomb pressed another button, and the third row of squared had a larger yellow dot appear in the first, third, and fifth square."Next up is the QRF's. The Quick Reaction Forces consist of up to five hundred Citadel ships, mostly the Asari Republic and Turian Hierarchy, strategically positioned to blunt smaller Covenant fleets that punch through the FEF's. " A purple arrow appeared on top of the grid and punched through the second fleet on the first row of squares. It moved two rows down and was immediately blocked by the first and second QRF fleets, with the two FEF's it had punched through, moving to attack its rear. "Depending on the size of the fleet, other nearby QRF's will move to reinforce the defense, or aid the FEF's in cutting off the Covenant retreat."

"Finally." Whitcomb waved his hand, and a green dot in the bottom middle square popped up. "The REA's, or Rear Echelon Anvils are UNSC fleets made up of all the forces that would normally be used to guard the strategic worlds of these sectors, concentrated into a single heavy battlefleet. Their role is to be the rear line of defense and the anvil atop which we'll break the heaviest Covenant offensives. They are slower, and will, therefore, take up position in the system most likely for the Covenant to target."

A new animation played. This time the Covenant fleet went right through the FEF's, was held back by the QRF's for a few seconds, then headed directly for the world guarded by the REA. "The REA will fight from a position of strength, and seek to defeat the Covenant with overwhelming force. It will fight a delaying action at first, however, to let the QRF's move to engage the Covenant from behind."

The animation now zoomed in, showing a representation of a Covenant fleet attacking a similarly sized UNSC fleet, with the UNSC slowly being pushed back. Only for the markers resembling Citadel ships to emerge in their rear and flanks. "Surrounded, the Covenant will be forced to either scatter and diminish their collective firepower. Or even better, they will be forced to bunch up when pressed from all sides. An excellent target for massed nuclear ordinance."

With a wave of his hand, the demonstration stopped, and Whitcomb put his hands in his lower back, continuing. "This defensive doctrine is not set in stone, and local commanders are at liberty to take what options they see will lead to victory. However, we believe that this system should be able to stop any small scale incursions."

Hood spoke up. "And if the REA cannot defeat the Covenant? I assume there is another strategic reserve at Reach?"

Danford responded immediately. "There will be. The Salarian Union will keep the majority of its most advanced fleets as a Strategic Reserve, alongside the collective Dreadnought fleets of the Citadel, and several smaller Turian and Asari fleets. As well as the Eridanus and Sol defense fleets. If those aren't enough, the war is lost."

Silence descended upon the Security Council. Hood thought over the increased reports from the front, the millions of soldiers the Citadel threw into the grinder so the UNSC could recover and regroup. At times, it was enough to push even him to the brink. The war was bigger than just over five months ago. Mostly on the side of the UNSC and its newfound allies. In truth, the greatest concern he had was if the Covenant could even escalate the war. The people of the UEG thought the dark times had passed, but he knew better. He'd seen the information discovered at Zhiost. The sheer scale of Covenant industry.

"Admiral Hood," Danford stated. "If you could explain the naval buildup."

Hood nodded and stood up, walking towards the holoprojector, activating his Omni-tool, and changing the image to the rosters of the UNSC's active fleets. The green lists were those of active fleets, of which there were only three. The fleet guarding Earth, the one guarding Reach, and the one under command of Admiral Cole. The other fleets were either yellow, with red swipes through those ships that had yet to be replaced, or complete red, for the "ghost fleets" fleets wiped out completely by the Covenant.

Over half the lists were red. Hood had marked most of those as destroyed himself. But he felt a fire burn in his chest. Those lists weren't going to remain red for long.

"I'll be brief. Our fleets are in tatters and we are no longer capable of waging counter-offensives against the Covenant. At the advice of Cole, and the Coalition High Command, I have pulled every fleet except Cole's Battlegroup X-ray out of frontline duty, and ordered them to regroup. The Citadel has agreed to take over most of the front to buy us the time needed to regroup. And by god, we're going to make the most of every second. To do this, we will begin the largest naval buildup in UNSC history, one which we can only finance with the economic assistance of the Citadel races. I have been working with the diplomatic service on New Ghent and sent out feelers on what the Citadel races would want in exchange for this.

The Citadel Council has offered to finance our fleet expansion, but in exchange, we got a list of demands

"

"What do they want?" Parangosky asked.

"They want a trade deal. One that's supposed to stop all this underhanded negotiating between UEG and Citadel corporations, as well inter-government squabbles."

Hood began reading the terms out loud, not missing a beat as he did so.

"1: The UNSC will allow Citadel corporations to negotiate with UEG corporations for the trade and export of FTL capable technologies, either in intellectual or material form.

2: The UNSC willf allow Citadel governments to negotiate with UEG corporations for trade and export of industrial processes and/or materials produced by UEG industrial processes.

3: The Citadel will allow the UNSC to prospect for mineral wealth inside Citadel territory, so long this does not go in the face of Citadel Law, as well as negotiate with private mineral contractors in Citadel space.

4: The Citadel will allow UEG corporations to export medical technologies into Citadel space, provided these technologies do not break laws on illegal biotech. In exchange, the UNSC will allow Citadel corporations to engage in trade and negotiations with UEG biotech firms.

5: The Citadel and UEG will agree on any tax levied on trade between the two nations, with no tax upon war materials, but a fifteen percent tax on non-essentials being the baseline upon signing of this contract. Both sides reserve the right to tax any sort of licensing fees or exchange of intellectual property.

6: The Citadel and the UEG will expand the orbital trading stations of New Ghent to facilitate the large scale import of materials by the UNSC, and the export of UEG exotic goods for Citadel markets.

7: The UEG and Citadel will set up a tax collection and customs agency responsible for all trade heading through Telvanis and New Ghent.

8: To keep oversight over all private sector trade, the UNSC and UEG agree to set up an isolated orbital habitat, capable of slipspace or FTL travel, on which the representatives on both sides can negotiate and arrange deals. Any deal not made here will be seen as null and void.

9: The Citadel will acknowledge the sovereign right of the UNSC to control the movement of people, goods, and information from Citadel Space into UNSC space. Goods can be halted for up to a week without warning, but after a week, an explanation has to be provided to Citadel customs.

10: Both sides agree to ban the fusion of any corporations of both parties, until further notice."

There was silence, then Parangosky spoke up, her passive demeanor cracked and replaced with sheer stupendous surprise. "What the hell are they offering in exchange for that?"

"Enough credits to finance the construction of ten Punic-class supercarriers, twenty Valiant-class heavy cruisers, a hundred Marathon-class heavy cruisers, as well as nearly two hundred and fifty destroyers and frigates. This includes constructing the yard space, enough transport ships to move this cargo from New Ghent to our shipyards, and expanding the factories and foundries needed to produce these ships. Which we can use after this fleet has been constructed to double our current rate of ship production."

Absolute silence descended upon the security council.

"So. A super capital fleet, but in exchange, we have to essentially open full intellectual trade" Danford mused. "I notice that we have the right to control all goods, information, and people who -leave- UNSC space, as well as strictly regulated customs control. That is good. But less control over what enters."

Parangosky interjected. "The damn Citadel Council got there before I did. I wanted to propose nailing out a trade agreement, but evidently, they beat us to it. The terms though… they look heavily oriented towards enabling us to import goods from them, with an expectation that our chief export will be exotic technologies, cultural items, and other such frivolities. "

President Charet spoke up. She'd been silent the entire discussion. As the "president" of what remained of the civilian bureaucracy, this was in her field of expertise. "If I could speak for a moment. I noticed that all the legislation seems to be devoted to allowing ideas and knowledge to be traded to Citadel Space while allowing for the large scale importation of both war materials, and consumer goods by UEG corporations. In essence, this is the cycle of our trade. Licenses, cultural items, and exotic goods and services would flow into the Citadel, which their corporations would, in turn, transform into taxable revenue for their governments. In return, we would use the credits we make exporting our goods, to import war materials and necessities, but also luxury goods. Both sides will profit in the end, but they will do so more."

Parangosky finished. "So, in essence, this will turn us into an extremely attractive market for Citadel corporations, and at the same time allow both the Citadel Government and us to tax galactic-level corporations. I noticed that whether we tax imports or exports is not defined yet. They want us to propose before we iron this deal out. I'll have it ran by my analysts, and we'll negotiate this deal further." She went silent then asked Hood. "How many ships could we construct without this deal? Surely we don't need to indebt ourselves to the Citadel to afford a fleet."

"One Punic, perhaps three or four Valiants, and maybe enough Marathons to replenish our forces. But we'd be stretching our titanium supplies thin."

Hood began speaking with all the conviction he could muster. "The matter of fact is this. We -are- pushing back against the Covenant. But we will need to re-establish our capabilities for large scale continued interstellar war." Hood pointed at the representation of a punic carrier with his Omni-tooled hand. "Give me frigates and destroyers, and I can defend human space. But if we are to cast the Covenant out of the Outer Colonies and chase them to whatever pit they crawled out of, we will need cruisers and carriers. We will need an Army and Marine corps with the best equipment and training we can provide, not the scraps we have left after a decade of losing."

Danford slammed his fist on the table. "We've made decisions in this chamber that have led to the deaths of billions, either intentionally or not. Are we going to raise qualms about -debt-? I made peace with the doom of humanity for years when I took this position, and now we have -hope-! This isn't a slaughter, this is a war. And by every means at my disposal, I will fight the Covenant until my dying breath. So to hell with being concerned about a future we didn't even know we had. I agree with this. Full trade. Full access to the galactic industry. I want every last ingot of titanium in this galaxy to flow into our war effort. If that's what it takes to get to the Covenant homeworld and raze it from orbit, so be it!"

There was silence in the room, then Parangosky nodded. And that was all Hood needed to know.

**1600 hours, August 28th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
****Observation deck, Anchor Nine, Reach Orbit.**

Admiral Hood took a sip from his glass of cognac as he watched the first construction ship unload its cargo of Titanium A. He was alone on the deck, observing the start of what would likely be the highpoint of his career. The creation of the largest fleet in human history.

The cognac was good. A gift from a friend before the war. A friend whose name he had trouble remembering. He'd lost many good friends, to time, or the Covenant. The names all blended in his head. He just watched in silence, completing the construction in his mind's eye. One day, he promised himself, those ships would be invading the Covenant.


	34. Chapter 34

**1200 hours, May 9th, 2542**

**Spires of Plenty, High Charity**

Vado 'Mavamee, alone with his thoughts, looked out across the docks at the ship that was being constructed for his assignment.

His crew was as good as he could get on the incredibly small budget he and the Ministry were working with. Less than thirty souls would be aboard the storm cutter, even if he counted the Rangers and support personnel. And he'd take them right into the heart of an unknown empire. Still, it was the Minister's will that they investigate this "Citadel", and it was to the benefit of the Covenant; no one in the crew refused.

Deep in contemplation, Vado passed the dockworkers making final pre-launch preparations, entered the airlock and, once it cycled, headed for the engineering. There he found the Minister of Discovery, his gravity chair bobbing up and down as the San'Shyuum made some adjustments inside a large spherical device situated in the center of the engine room, just next to the slipspace borer. Once he was done, the San'Shyuum closed the access panel in the side of the orb; as the device activated and turned white, an ominous hum could be heard.

"Shipmaster, the hard light disguise matrix is enabled. The San'Shyuum I'd sent don't know a plasma pistol from a shipborne plasma lance, so I had to install it myself!" The Minister scoffed, giving the San'Shyuum that Vado now saw skulking around on the other side of the room. "I ought to petition for them to be placed on the Roll of Celibates, lest they pass on their idiocy!" The lesser San'Shyuum flinched at the prospect.

"Minister, I did not know you were an artisan-armorer." Vado admitted.

"I was, once. Before I became Minister I was the Keeper of the Vault in the Ministry, and, therefore, the custodian of our many discoveries. This disguise matrix is the result of a project I had worked on before my ascension to the rank of Minister. It's been gathering dust in our vaults ever since."

"You mean... It is unsanctioned? Such a thing is profane!" Vado said, cursing under his breath. Then he remembered who he was talking to, and hastily added, "Forgive me, your grace. I spoke out of turn."

"Shipmaster, if I had this device properly sanctified and prepared for full deployment, it would take the bureaucracy a decade, if not a generation, just to agree on the color of the wiring. Let alone my… unorthodox use of hard light technology. It would also be passed around the entire Covenant, and I would have never been able to keep sole ownership of it, or, perhaps, the right to work with the technology. It is an… unspoken agreement among the San'Shyuum to not interfere with each other in these matters."

Vado nodded in silent agreement; hard light was one of the most sacred technologies of the gods. It was something only the greatest artisans of the Covenant could work with, and only fewer actually did.

"Minister. I did not know the Prophets had this much… infighting."

"Mmhm?" The Prophet looked at the shipmaster intently "Ah. It must seem out of place for you, Shipmaster. The Sangheili have always had a far more… _direct_ approach to politics. However, intrigue has always been the way of the San'Shyuum. It weeds out those of lesser ability. Walk with me." "

Vado followed the Prophet as he floated out of the engine room and towards the cargo bay. They passed the Ultra who'd captured the interlopers' "omni-tool" back in the human space. The Ultra nodded and saluted both of them. Vado still had no clue as to who the Ultra truly was, and would have to try and pry the information from him, at a later date.

"Your crew will be equipped with a standard long-range exploration loadout," the Minister continued as they entered the cargo bay, "as well as an automated hydroponic garden and enough provisions to extend your deployment to up to a year without resupply. "

"And the fuel?" the shipmaster asked.

"You'll be able to harvest your fuel from gas giants, and process it for use. But yes, it will be the limiting factor. Do not travel at maximum speeds unless you want to end up stranded without fuel."

Vado nodded. The war against the humans had shown that the greatest weakness of the Covenant navy lay in the sheer amount of fuel their ships consumed, as well as the carrier gas for their plasma weapons. Being able to travel hundreds of light years a day meant little if you were out of plasma after one battle. It had been the greatest limiting factor of the Covenant throughout the entire war, although plans were being developed to construct a massive refinery on the human world of Pegasi Delta to alleviate this.

"I see. Forgive me for intruding, Minister, but I noticed there were sleeper capsules installed. I take it we're expected to sleep through the first leg of the journey?"

"You'll rotate crew in and out to minimize life support usage while you cross the void between the galactic arms, there are no true maps of this expanse of space, so your speed will be greatly reduced." the Prophet explained.

"Understood, your grace, but I have concerns. I have fought many campaigns against the humans, and I've been thinking about the distance we will likely have to cover. A campaign against the Citadel would be extremely difficult. It might be best for the ministry if it… refrained from getting too involved." He muttered the last part. He didn't like to say it, but he didn't want to risk the standing of his bloodline until the Ministry of Discovery was restored to its old glory.

The Prophet stopped his gravity chair and turned around. "That is very good to know. How long would it take before we could dispatch an invasion force to the other galactic arm? Assuming your findings provide the capital needed to finance such a thing, or we sell it to another ministry."

Vado stopped, grinding his mandibles as he thought it over. "The main issue we have is the need of our Slipspace Borer's to properly chart slipspace routes before we can use them. We have no reference points or destination in mind, and we'll need to travel through areas no Covenant ship has been to before. Finding the optimal slipspace routes will take time. And that would be just explorers. A proper fleet would also require robust supply lines as well as local logistical support in the form of agricultural ships, fuel harvesters, factory ships, bulk freighters... and then we'd have the troop transports. We'd need whole tithe fleets just to keep the army clothed, fed and combat ready."

"We would need supply lines even with the support ships?" the Minister asked, evidently not versed in the field of naval logistics.

"Yes, your grace. Logistical support ships allow us to last longer before resupply is needed, but they are not going to fully replace a proper supply depot unless you bring a support fleet that's too big to be guarded safely. Anything more than a quick raid would see the fleet quickly run out of fuel and carrier gas. We'd need constant resupply runs to the Covenant core territories, supplemented by increased tithes from the tributary worlds of the northern fringe, and that would necessitate larger garrisons. A supply line hundreds of light years long isn't feasible when our forces in human space already run into delays operating a hundred light years away. A campaign this far coreward would require years of preparations. We'd need multiple Hierophant-class support stations to support the fleets as they move, garrisons to cover these stations and systems within twenty light years from them, and substantial resource gathering operations at each waystation."

"You are quite knowledgeable in the art of logistics, Shipmaster. Were you planning to become a true fleetmaster soon?" The Minister asked tonelessly, as if stating a fact, although the remark had a barb to it.

"My father fell in battle when the humans raided Zhoist. I've taken it upon myself to study that battle and the events that led to it. The Covenant fleet is the mightiest armada in the known galaxy, but it is one built for operating within the borders of our space or close to them and supporting our continued growth in all directions."

'Then, we can only take the appearance of this "Citadel Council" as a blessing, Shipmaster," the San'Shyuum grinned. "A real war is exactly what is needed to shake the ministries out of their complacency, to wake the Covenant and force it to adapt instead of merely sending in the anti-piracy fleets when our colonists or explorers stumble upon a human world. Finally allow the usage of improved computer intelligences for astrogation."

Vado nodded in agreement as he stepped into the hangar bay and looked around, noting the stasis capsules that were awaiting their new occupants.

"I know the Sangheili councillors have been chafing at the monopoly the Ministry of Resolution has on military operations beyond the frontier. There is a war against the enemies of the faith waiting outside our borders, but in most cases only this ministry is allowed to send its fleets beyond. It's infuriating," admitted the Sangheili.

"Quite so," the Minister of Discovery agreed, before lowering his voice and adding in a conspiratorial tone, "Just sending explorers into the former human territories is a bureaucratic nightmare. Personally, I think the Ministry of Resolution is trying to hide how difficult the humans are actually to remove and is thus unwilling to ask for assistance for risk of losing face."

Vado nodded along, deciding not to comment in the face of his superior on the latter's blatant disregard for a ministry run by the Prophet of Truth himself.

"What will the ship be called, Minister?" he asked, changing the topic.

"Herald of Abundance."


	35. Chapter 35

**11:00 hours, August 23rd, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)**

**Turian Military Hospital #2, Zakera Ward, the Citadel.**

Nialla looked up from her medical bed. Her body still ached from all the surgeries to install her cybernetics. She activated the Omni-tool build into her new left arm and turned up the volume. She was in a private medical suite in the Turian Military Hospital on Telvanis. Her bed pulled double duty as an extensive surgical suite. Her skin was now a synthetic composite. Her bloodstream filled with drugs. And her organs replaced one by one. She looked at her right hand. It was a military-grade cybernetic. The best thing about turian military healthcare, free cybernetics if you stuck around. She flexed the hand, lighting the Omni-tool built into her forearm, with mental command. With a mental command and a twist of her wrist, the Omni-tool went through the full-color spectrum. She stopped at green.

She leaned forward, the bed changing into a lounging chair as it did so. As she did so, the cables plugged into her spine protested. Reaching behind her head, she removed the charging cable in the base of her skull. She stepped off the bed and walked around, getting a feeling for her balance. She'd been thinking a lot.

She still dreamt of Gedrus, of her last glimpse of him operated on by the medics. When she closed her eyes, she could see the face of the elite who'd killed every survivor of her original squad. It had moved so fast. The only thing that spared her was the Elite being in a hurry and only taking off her omni-tool arm… and her lower body. She looked down at her legs. It was hard to believe they'd ever been gone.

At least, it was still flesh and blood, or at least a substitute, as she reminded herself. The bones were now reinforced by Ceramics and Titanium. Her skin interwoven with fire-resistant synthetic weave and nanotech. Her body no longer had an ounce of fat remaining. Instead of fat, now her body contained two compressed nutrient tanks.

The scientists had called it "bio-synthetic fusion." The combination of biotech and cybernetics, interwoven until the lines between each blurred. Each organ was now lab-grown meat with cybernetics inside. Even her blood was no longer the same. It was now a synthetic replacement that had triple the normal oxygen capacity. Those augmentations were invisible. Her eyes were not.

Whenever she looked at a mirror, she was confronted by unblinking, lidless balls of metal. Not even her blinking was reak. It was all emulated.

All her cybernetics were completely shielded against EMP. Which was a small blessing. Her fusion power cells could run for over a month before needing to recharge. She pulled aside her hospital gown and put a hand to her left side, feeling the heat of the embedded fusion cell. She'd undergone a heavy training regimen until she could replace them blindfolded. But she hoped she'd never have to do that.

She touched her face, wriggling the synthetic skin. It didn't feel right. Too tough. Too stretchy.

The door slid open, and a doctor walked in. "Ah, Sergeant Nialla. I have a firmware update for your cybernetics. Lie down if you would." He said, pointing at her bed. It was just one of many military doctors in the hospital. Nialla was so overburdened by the constant surgery, she had trouble remembering the doctors.

Nialla plugged herself back into the charging station, then laid down on the bed. It transformed back into a chair. There were no cushions, no pillows. She didn't need those luxuries anymore. She turned on the television as she prepared for what was to come.

The doctor moved the headrest out of the way, plugged a cable into the back of her head. Her HUD shut down, and a download bar appeared at the bottom of her vision. She couldn't move a muscle, her gaze locked looking forward. She'd have nothing better to do while maintenance happened.

She decided to check out Palavan News Network for reports on the war. It was a daily ritual for her. She was eager to head to the fighting. The television changed to show two turians sitting behind a desk, holding data slates. The headline at the bottom of the screen said. "War in Orion Arm intensifies."

"_-The battle of Alluvio in the Bhaakto system continues unabated. The Asari Sixth Fleet is currently attempting to break the planetary blockade. Their arrival was a great surprise for the besieged UNSC forces in the system. Who had dug in for their final stand. After two hours, Asari and UNSC ships managed to breach the blockade and land ground forces._

_With the blockade broken, the Coalition assaulted the planet. The 13th Palavan, escorted by the Asari, managed to land 13,000 men on Alluvio. There they grouped up with the 101st ODST, the last bastion of organized resistance. Together, they managed to retake the planetary capital after two days of ceaseless fighting. Having lost the capital, the Covenant pulled back to their shielded landing zones._

_The human Admiral Cole, when asked for a comment, said. "Excellent. Five hundred worlds to go."_

**1100 hours, August 23rd, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)**

**Telvanis, Hidden ONI cell inside a refugee camp.**

"Can you believe that?" Lieutenant Commander Rickard asked Michael Church as they watched the news broadcasts. "There's no editing in these broadcasts! Section Two must be chomping at the bit that they don't get to censor everything going to the Citadel. Poor bastards are gonna lose their budget." Rickard grinned under his breath. He never liked Section Two. It was for petty bureaucrats that didn't have the stomach for proper ONI work. "Throw me one of those Asari beers," Rickard told Michael, who complied and grabbed one from the cooler and threw it over.

Operation: INFESTATION was an outstanding success so far. Rickard had turned a handful of ONI survivors into the first spy network in Citadel Space.

They were listening in on every public broadcasting service, while dumb AI sifted through the data. The average day for an ONI agent on Telvanis was quite boring, all things considered. They'd wake up, replace the other shift, and resume data collection. They'd watch the news, check local message boards, mingle with the crowds, and generally act like model citizens. To any observer, they'd look like bored human refugees waiting for something to happen.

The cover was an excellent one. According to which, they were war-weary refugees living things up. And going by the information they were able to gather, it was effective. Citadel life was downright hedonistic compared to war-weary UNSC worlds. Many human refugees were quick to discover the niceties of Citadel life, partaking in the abundant sex, food, and drugs. As a frontier-worlder, Michael had never experienced such luxury. He shared this with most ONI agents not from Earth or Reach. The agents from Earth and Reach had no issue mingling with the crowds, whereas Michael couldn't keep strong liquor down.

"Jackson. Anything on your end?" Rickard asked, putting up his feet and taking a long sip from some asari beer-equivalent. He was referring to an ONI pencil pusher in charge of the data collection dumb they'd smuggled with them.

"Nothing worth noting. is still trying to calculate how hard you have to ram a Covenant ship to break. is still circle-jerking about taking the fight to the Covenant. There's stories of soldiers talking about re-enlisting, gun-donation drives, fundraising."

"Can you elaborate?" Rickard asked.

"These Turians must consider gun control to be a very dirty word. Most of them are packing heavy firepower from the looks of things. It's become the biggest subject on the Turian Extranet "How to support the Humans." It's actually quite touc- Oh wow, civilian-owned rocket launchers. That's awesome." Jackson said.

The others in the room stood up from what they were doing and walked up to Jackson's screen.

It showed a group picture of what looked like Turian blue-collar workers, holding a large banner. They stood in front of a crate containing everything from pistols to shotguns. The banner read. "From the workers of Taetrus. Give them hell!"

Rickard walked off, shaking his head, then sat down on a couch. "Why can't things be simple anymore," he asked out loud.

"This assignment has to be the most boring I have ever been on." Rickard spat out, sounding annoyed. "I thought we'd find something incriminating on the Citadel. Something worth worrying about, at least! Not play games on the extranet, post on military forums, gain weight, and in Johannes's case, impregnate the locals!" He said, glaring at the ONI agent, who blushed. "Congratulation. You're the first human to ever knock up an alien. If you become a bad father and cause an interspecies incident, I am going to shoot you."

Rickard leaned forward, putting his hands together. He waxed. "I'm sure Section Two will appreciate the information about Citadel life we've gathered. But I doubt Asari pornography, and pictures of varren are going to please their requests for more information." Rickard sighed. "I'll send our next progress report and either ask for more powerful equipment or a transfer back to UNSC space. I'm not made for… -working- with aliens! I'm better at dissecting them."

Rickard was silent. "I thought we'd at least get something out of it! Black market contacts. Hints of the true political dealings of the galaxies. Contraband. The kind of things I can work with. What am I going to tell our bosses? "They have this amazing powder that feels better than any morphine, and the asari love sex! Why Johannes impregnated the daughter of a local crime boss!" No. We need to move. Go somewhere we can get more information to send back."

Rickard thought it over.

There was a knocking at the door. Two knocks, a pause, then three taps. A messenger has arrived.

Michael stood up and walked up to the door, opening it. A plain-looking woman with ginger hair and a freckled face stepped through the door. She nodded at Michael and walked inside, sitting down without a word and sitting down. The woman rolled up her right sleeve revealing her arm to be mechanical. She opened the control panel of her cybernetic arm and removed what looked like a processor. She handed it over to Richard, who inserted it into his neural interface. Rickard froze up and his eyes went wide as the data played across his retina.

Rickard muttered. "Well. I'll be."

Michael swiveled in his chair, turning to face Rickard. "What is it, Sir?"

"Orders from Parangosky herself. We're to move to Omega." Rickard paused. "ONI wants a foothold in the black market."

Nialla decided that a walk outdoors would do her some good. After finishing her new calibrations, she'd had the rest of the day to herself. Nialla felt that it was time she had a look at life on the Citadel.

The war was thousands of light-years away, but its effects were already becoming plain to see. For one thing, everyone was talking about it. Wherever she walked, she heard conversations about the growing scale of the conflict. People talked about everything from the Turian mobilization increasing, to what the humans were like. Nialla noted with approval that there was an air of optimism to the whole ordeal. Everyone had made peace with this being a long war, but also a justified one.

That and a lot of people were becoming very rich, very fast. Companies were ravenous for skilled labor needed to feed the war machine. Each was trying to offer better employment opportunities than the last.

"Needed! Skilled Miners. Inquire about our free gene health program!"

"Hard-working hands needed on Trigina Petra. Education provided. Get your own farm after your term is over!"

"Cargo pilots needed. Free neural cybernetics after five years of employment!"

Seeing this made her quite happy. As the daughter of two engineers, it always pleased her to see skilled laborers earning a solid wage. The UNSC's ravenous desire for raw materials was almost outstripping supply. Her augmented senses fed the flood of information to her internal VI, which filtered it for relevant subjects.

The Titanium and Fissile materials markets were booming due to the enormous demand of the UNSC. The sheer demand for labor even led to a massive increase in the average wage, as companies attempted to poach each other's workforce. In the Terminus Systems, several megacorporations had even declared war over rich deposits. Meanwhile, on Illium, indentured servant contracts were soaring in price.

But things weren't one-sided. The news reports talked of multi-trillion credit licensing deals for human medical and industrial technologies. If not for the sheer amount that the UNSC was importing, they would be one of the richest races outside the "Council three"

Nialla sat down on a bench, trying to think about what she should do next. She truly felt aimless without being at the front. She'd just have to hope that the next week passed quickly.

**Meanwhile at Citadel Tower. **

**Private Council meeting chamber.**

Tevos took a sip from her wine. A cheap brand of wine she'd always liked, ever since she'd been a Maiden. The last few months had been a hectic time for the Citadel Council, and they were all using their own methods to cope. She'd noticed Valern had injection marks on his wrists for Stimulant injectors. Sparatus meanwhile, had booked a weekly session with the Consort. Neither of the two were bothering to hide their vices. There was too much work to do.

Tevos yawned and began drinking straight from the bottle. She was too tired to use a glass. Valern chuckled at this, while Sparatus had a thousand-yard stare.

After a moment of silence, Tevos spoke up.

"Tax revenues in the Asari Republic have doubled after we succeeded in bringing the bureaucracies into line." Tevos activated the holographic emitter at the center of the table with a wave of her hand. "Commando recruitment is up five hundred percent, with many more signing up for the expeditionary forces. Naval production will double before the end of the year." Tevos waved to the next image. "Several asari megacorporations have negotiated with the humans for Slipspace drives. There is currently a thriving trade of Slipspace drives for Eezo, that I am fostering as much as possible. We will be performing our first Slipspace test flights next month." Tevos fought back the desire to yawn. "The UNSC has so far not ceased its increasing demands for raw materials, no matter how much income they make. The galactic central bank has so far confirmed that they can manage the current rate of imports for twenty years." Tevos nodded to Sparatus, who took over.

"The UEG and the Hierarchy are negotiating for increased cooperation in military production. The UNSC has many amazing war machines they can no longer produce due to lost manufacturing centers. After the successful AC-220 Vulture deal, the UNSC is looking to get similar deals for other vehicles they can no longer produce. There are talks about a "Coalition Grizzly" to give the Hierarchy a new superheavy MBT. The Joint Research Initiative is currently working with UEG corporations to ease joint technological development. Cheaper hydrogen power cells, ammo fabricators, ME-compressed alloys, and barriers are the priority at the moment. But successful experiments are using an eezo core to lighten the vehicle and increasing the speed. Currently, the focus is on rapid deployment and upgrading existing stock. The hope is that when the front has stabilized, we can design new vehicles involving both our technologies, from the ground up."

Sparatus poured himself a drink from a flask and worked it down, he coughed and wiped the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief. A gross breach of etiquette, but they were all doing so. Tevos took the break as an excuse to down her bottle of wine, while Valern injected another stimulant. So long their performance did not degrade, the three could care less about peacetime niceties.

Sparatus changed the holographic display to two ships. A Turian cruiser and a human ship designated a "Halberd Class.". "Our recent battles with the Covenant have shown clear deficiencies in Turian firepower. With the threat of the Covenant, the admiralty decided to ask the UNSC for help in designing a new cruiser. The Joint Research Initiative is designing a version for use by the Hierarchy. In exchange, we will be providing the UNSC the production patterns for our Telkis dropships, our Tyruss IFV, and our Jiris IFV's. We will also be helping them create a hovertank variant of the UNSC Scorpion."

"The Joint Research Institute, Sino-Soviet Engineering, as well as the Turian Hierarchy Naval Research & Developmental bureau are currently designing a new "E-MAC". The intent is to create a basic template for use by us, and our allies. So far, we intend to combine the incredible yield of a UNSC MAC, Mass Effect technology to create a superior gun. Simulations have shown that it could be possible to double the firepower of UNSC MAC's. This is thanks to using a Mass Effect core to lighten the shell before it leaves the barrel. The increased speed means either a much more powerful shot. But it can also enable MAC's with smaller shells, so ships can carry more ammunition or rapid-fire MAC guns. The Turian Admiralty wishes to mount an improved main gun, on our next line of cruisers. Elkoss Combine has drawn up plans for a version that has half the firepower of a UNSC MAC, but double the fire rate. This suits our doctrine of rapid firepower."

Tevos did some quick mental calculations. "From our reports. It takes two to three MAC rounds for a UNSC ship to destroy a Covenant ship of similar mass. Correct?" She continued when Sparatus nodded. "That means the humans will be more evenly matched with the Covenant. At least in firepower if the E-MAC meets its projected output. How about defenses?"

Sparatus smiled and continued. "Barrier designs compatible with UNSC power systems are being designed. These theoretical E-MAC ships would come with the strongest barriers possible. The UNSC has also approached us for help in setting up their own Mass-Compression alloys. This will allow them to compress Titanium-A battle plate to half its original size, while losing no strength. Using their Slipspace Drives, doubling the amount of armor on each UNSC ship is a workable proposition. The Hierarchy is also interested in this "Titanium-A" and we are licensing our own variant. This is the raw design so far."

Sparatus pointed at the two images, and with a wave of his omni tool, both ships disassembled, then moved together, merging into a single whole.

"The new cruiser's main weapon will be an E-MAC geared for rapid firepower. The primary fusion drives will remain the same. But we will add four anti-proton thrusters. It will be equipped with both a Slipspace and an eezo core. The framework of the ship will be a partial Silaris design, for the core of the superstructure. Point defense consists of six overlapping batteries of ultraviolet GARDIAN turrets. Using UNSC cooling technology, these turrets will have a much longer lifespan. There will be thirty missile pods, each containing nuclear, warp, or antimatter payloads. Orbital bombardment rods are a possibility as well. There will be four torpedo tubes, each with a Shiva-Class nuclear torpedo. Or any other torpedo of an equal size. We are negotiating with the UNSC for the specifications of the Shiva. They have expressed interest in trading them for Disruptor Torpedo technology. Finally. There will be enough space to launch up to twenty drone-fighters."

"Now. Onto what we have learned about war with the Covenant, so far." The image changed to that of a Turian Dreadnought. "The main issue we have faced so far when facing the Covenant is that our dreadnoughts no longer fit in this current paradigm. Instead of shipkillers, they will become dedicated command ships. There are also plans to create a line of dedicated drone carriers from Dreadnought hulls. The main inspiration came from the battle of New Milan. Using massed heavy fighters to hunt down and destroy weakened Covenant ships. The Admiralty believes that the best path forward is to use massed drone fighters as a finishing blow. Each will be either equipped with a spread of disruptor torpedoes or ram the Covenant ship and detonate a nuclear warhead."

"Another lesson we learned at the battle of New Milan was the heavy losses our frigates would take. The Hierarchy is considering making all frigates remote-controlled. The progress the Salarians made in this field showed excellent promise." Sparatus smiled at Valern, who returned a nod.

"As always, we will be sharing our doctrinal changes with the Asari and the Salarians so they can optimize their cooperation. We are working as fast as we can to make this design a reality. And will begin production as soon as possible. But this could take several years. Until then, we will have to hold the line."

Valern nodded. "Technological cooperation will prove vital in winning this war. Pushing on the Covenant so we can garner strategic depth, to then trade away for time, seems to be the best course of action. I will be suggesting to the Salarian Union to consider transitioning to the same cruiser-dominant doctrine."

"I'll do the same for the Asari."

"The Hierarchy and the humans are getting along quite well it seems." Valern remarked.

Sparatus gave a weary, but a proud smile. "They are a strong and resourceful people, who have so far endured incredible hardships. The galaxy can always use a second meritocratic military state to maintain peace and order."

Tevos raised an eyebrow at that remark. "The Hierarchy would not wish for the restoration of a civilian government of the humans?"

"Primarch Fedorian has expressed great admiration of the UNSC. We would be willing to assist the UNSC in creating a meritocratic autocracy. He would be delighted to share the turian system of governance."

Tevos couldn't help but feel conflicted upon hearing that claim. Matriarch Benezia had informed Tevos that the human government was once a representative democracy. Tevos had assumed that humanity could transition back into this when the threat of extinction had lessened. But the idea of the Turian Hierarchy using its millennia of experience with military autocracy to aid the UNSC in establishing a similar system could set a dangerous precedent. ?

She spoke up. "Sparatus. I must ask you to plead with the Primarch to not adopt such a foreign policy. Galactic peace depends on a single autocratic meritocracy. The galaxy would profit a thousand times more from a wealthy industrial humanity. A second Hierarchy could throw the balance of power into disarray."

Sparatus eyed Tevos with an unscrupulous gaze, examining her for any sign of double intent. Realizing he was dealing with Tevos and how pointless such an attempt was, he nodded. "I see where you're coming from. I will ask the Primarch to not support the UNSC over the UEG. So long as the Asari will not try to empower the UEG over the UNSC."

Tevos nodded. "The humans should decide their own fate."

She quickly changed the subject. "Valern. Any news on your AI research?"

The Salarian nodded eagerly. "Yes! A week ago we created our first AI with UNSC aid. And much to our delight, the product really was a Salarian in digital form. The AI had morals, ethics, and even a sense of humor. The discovery is causing waves in the scientific community on Sur'Kesh."

Sparatus looked bemused. " I will recommend to the Hierarchy that we follow the Salarian's in this field. The concept of "serving beyond death" as an AI is gaining traction in the Hierarchy. Primarch Fedorian has even asked to have his brain used to create an AI upon his death. There are talks of creating a new citizenship-tier for these "uploads"."

Tevos still remembered the Morning War and couldn't help but be disturbed at the prospect of so many AI being created. But it was not her decision to decide what the Turians and Salarians did. She smiled diplomatically. "I can not make promises for the Asari Republics, as each republic will decide its own laws on this new technology. But so long the right safeguards are in place, I can not object."

Valern nodded. "They'd be used aboard warships for the time being. With no ability to connect to outside networks."

"What about their "Dumb" AI. Any discoveries?" She asked.

Valern shook his head. "From what we can see, a Dumb AI is just a high grade VI with more personality than most. Impressive, but nothing worth worrying about."

Tevos nodded. "Some final smaller matters then. Firstly. The Quarians."

Sparatus rolled his eyes. "Are they making another badly-disguised attempt at provoking the Geth?" He asked.

She shook her head. "No. They are requesting the right to negotiate with the UNSC. working in zero-g construction and salvaging and such."

Sparatus shrugged. "So long they agree to go through the same customs all other ships do. Any ship that goes into UNSC Space only leaves when the UNSC agrees. What do you think, Valern?" He asked the Salarian.

"Agreed. Might as well."

Valern put his hands together and began to speak. "We have made some progress in analyzing the Covenant ship we partially captured. But the engineering is… nonsensical. Its like they don't work by anything that we would call sensible engineering. We're working with the humans on reverse engineering Covenant computer systems, and we are making some progress, but progress is slow. Same on their shielding and their FTL drive. It will take some time to make any serious progress. "

Not seeing any questions, Valern continued. "The underground ruins are slowly being mapped as we clear them. But it's still a chemical warzone down there. We did make one small discovery of note. We believe we found a computer terminal, and we are analyzing what we can. But the process is slow. So far, it appears like the ruin was stripped clean long ago, so it might be our only discovery of note. We did manage to recover a name. We believe it was the destination."

"What was it?"

Valern checked the name again. _"Charum Hakkor"_


	36. Chapter 36

**1900 hours, May 14th, 2542  
Dock 109, Spires of Plenty, High Charity**

"Lady Vellana, why are you so interested in accompanying the Shipmaster? Your family doesn't run a ministry, and it has no great holdings to its name. What do you have to gain by risking your life?" the Minister of Discovery said, tinkering with a small spherical device, on a shelf attached to his chair. A new gravity grenade he'd been developing. He and Vado 'Mavamee's unexpected companion were sat in a dockmaster's office near the pier the Herald of Abundance was docked at.

Len'Vellana shook her head solemnly. "That is why I wish to join. The blood of my line has run thin, and only a handful remain. I am the only fertile member of my family left. With me being on the Roll of Celibates, my family's legacy has come to an end." At that point, she straightened up, her eyes shining with a zealous determination. "So I will give us a worthy end, something that will make sure we're remembered until the Great Journey begins."

The Minister of Discovery raised an eyebrow, his wattles jiggling as he did so. "You are still upon the roll? I thought with your augmentations you would be able to repeal such a thing."

"My family did appeal, Minister. However, merely convincing the Ministry of Preparation to augment me cost most of our wealth - so much we could not counter the bribes offered by our rivals. My appeal was rejected." Len'Vellana admitted, her normally stoic voice giving way to dejection. "Now I have the powers of a Prelate yet none of the privilege, and I am still on the roll." She sighed. "I wish to bring my family's line to a glorious end, and spreading the faith to this… "Citadel" would be a fine way to do so."

"Ah, so you fashion yourself a missionary, then?" the Minister of Discovery mused. "That sounds like an excellent suggestion. If you swear that you are acting solely under your own initiative and will not interfere in the affairs of my ministry or jeopardize the mission in any way, you will have my blessing and support in spreading the faith."

"Thank you, Ministe-"

Suddenly, sirens blared, cutting Len'Vellana off. Seconds later the expression of surprise on her face gave way to shock. Realizing that the young San'Shyuum was staring at the viewport behind him, the Minister turned around to see just what it was.

It was an assault carrier, bound for their section of the docks, and it had clearly seen better days. The once-mighty ship's hull was pockmarked with impact craters and scorch marks, armor plates knocked loose and several plasma fires burning amidships. The bow had clearly taken the worst of the damage: multiple compartments were exposed to space, and the distinctive ventral "hook" was missing altogether, with only a few twisted frames and spars remaining. Two of the carrier's main engines were clearly barely working, their drive plumes flickering unsteadily. The stricken ship proceeded to limp towards a pier not far from the Herald of Abundance's berth, tugs trailing behind and rescue ships spraying the carrier's hull with special foam.

As the two San'Shyuum stared in shock, a Sangheili dockmaster spoke over the public speakers dockside, _"The carrier Ravager has sustained severe damage and is requesting assistance. Registering hull breaches, damage from secondary explosions, fires on multiple decks. Rescue ships and menials dispatched. All non-essential personnel are to stay clear of Dock 109._"

The Minister of Discovery was shocked. Surely a ship that badly damaged would not dock with High Charity, he thought, except for the most dire situations. Unless...

Then it clicked: a hostile first contact would certainly qualify, and, considering Vado 'Mavamee's reports, it was a highly likely scenario. The Ravager had clearly survived a battle against the humans and their new allies and fled to the holy city to report on what happened. With that in mind, the Minister turned around, opened the door and floated onto the pier, motioning Len'Vellana to follow.

Meanwhile, massive docking claws extended from the docks to grab the carrier, gripping the hull tightly and dragging it into the dock. Fire suppression turrets unfolded from the ceiling, spraying foam across the hull and aiding the efforts of the rescue ships. The dock immediately became a frenzy of activity as dozens, hundreds, and then thousands of Unggoy in white respirators emerged from every entrance, carrying firefighting equipment. The ship docked, the closest airlock cycled, and a single shipmaster stepped out, covered in bandages, his right arm tied to the side. He saw the Minister of Discovery and walked over to him, saluting with his good arm.

"Your grace, I bring news of a new foe upon our frontier… one allied with the humans."

**1400 hours, May 15th, 2542  
High Council Chambers, High Charity**

"This is unacceptable!" the shrill voice of a female San'Shyuum cried out.

The High Council was in an uproar at the word of a new coalition of species working alongside the humans. An emergency session involving all the ministries had been convened to address the issue, even as the Hierarchs urged everyone to stay calm and tried to play down what had happened.

The Minister of Discovery sat in the same seat as always, attentively observing the proceedings. He was most likely the only one in the chambers with prior knowledge of the Citadel. Something that he would have to be cautious about revealing. He'd see about prodding the Covenant towards a path he himself could profit from the most.

"As the Ministress of Conversion, it is my divine duty to fulfill our mandate - to spread the faith. And now I hear I was not informed of half a dozen races uniting against us!?" The Prophetess slammed her decrepit hand on the gilded armrest. "This is a serious breach of the mandate of both the Ministry of Resolution and the Ministry of Conversion. The Ministry of Resolution is authorised to exterminate pirates and heretics on the frontier, not wage interstellar war - not without approval by the Council! You threaten the sacred union with your breach of protocol!"

"Peace, Minister," Truth intoned in his soft velvety voice,. "We are not at war with this "Citadel", merely the humans they so foolishly attempt to protect. We will formulate a new plan to deal with them. Surely you understand that the Ministry of Resolution had no way to predict the sudden appearance of several thousand alien ships in the theater? They have not broken their mandate." The Prophet was far too mild and timid for Discovery's tastes, always toning down the situation and refusing to escalate the war against the humans, which mostly involved a single Ministry.

"And what might that new plan be?" a Sangheili councillor spoke up. "Do we mobilize for war? We don't even know where they came from! You can't expect us to work with so little information. Tell us more, noble Hierarch, so we can plan for the defense of the Covenant." Murmurs of agreement went through the assembled Sangheili - and even several San'Shyuum. The Minister of Discovery nodded along.

"We should contact this "Citadel" openly, establish diplomatic contact and see what motivated their actions," the Minister of Tribute, a thin well-dressed San'Shyuum who managed the schedules of the Covenant's many tithe fleets, loudly proclaimed. "Only the humans have destroyed the relics of the gods, have they not? This "Citadel"... these newcomers, while outsiders, are not heretics as far as we know. We have never met another interstellar coalition before. Surely it would be most prudent to first discover what motivates them? If they can field thousands of ships, then they must be rich indeed. What if they merely fear we will attempt to absorb them through conquest? We should look into offering them the status of a tributary in exchange for peace."

This idea rankled the Sangheili, who angrily muttered under their breath; a few even yelled their disapproval. San'Shyuum councillors seemed more receptive to the idea, as more than a few of them started quietly discussing this plan of action.

The Ministress of Concert, the San'Shyuum responsible for representing all non-Sangheili or San'Shyuum races in the Covenant, stood up. It was a young, deceptively fresh-faced female whom the Minister of Discovery recognized as a former concubine of Truth, but anyone who suspected her of achieving her rank through seduction would quickly be proven wrong by her political acumen. She held up a hand, motioning for silence as she spoke; her voice was smooth, kind and motherly. "I must agree with the Minister of Tribute in that a diplomatic solution might be desirable. High Charity is already struggling to support the thronging masses of the faithful, and the full integration of what must be a powerful and prosperous interstellar alliance could greatly increase the tensions between the Unggoy and Kig-Yar, which are already high. Whatever is decided, the Ministry of Concert will not back any attempt to incorporate another species into the Covenant, unless the mandate of our ministry is expanded… or we create a ministry dedicated purely to governing them."

The Sangheili Councillors were greatly outraged by the idea. "Coward!" one of them yelled. "We are the Covenant, chosen by the gods. You merely want an excuse to expand your ministry beyond its current mandate! Your power play is clear for all to see!" The Sangheili surrounding the councillor nodded in agreement. "We merely need to bring them into the fold by force, dismantle them into tributaries states, and stop them from rebuilding their fleets, then ban them from colonizing new worlds. That is all we need."

As the debate became more and more heated, Discovery could see that the High Council was split into two camps. The moderates, led by the Minister of Tribute, were in favor of diplomatic overtures towards the Citadel and peaceful integration, backed by the Ministry of Concert. The two ministries were a formidable power bloc, controlling both the Covenant's many tithe fleets and most of its subservient races.

The other camp, spearheaded by the Sangheili,e wanted war. They had yet to rally behind a central figure, but they all shared the opinion that the Covenant had to gather information on their new enemy and then decide on the best plan of action to force the Citadel into submission. The issue was that the offensive stance was the only common point they had. The councillors of the Sangheili core worlds wanted a measured response, whereas those representing younger colonies wanted a glorious war to increase their standing in the Covenant.

The Hierarchs were silent, as if content to merely observe what happened.

Then the Prophet of Truth spoke up, holding up a hand to silence the bickering councillors.

"Until this Council reaches agreement, I propose that each Ministry distribute their fleets across Covenant space in a defensive posture. While this is done, the war against the humans will continue, with the full force of the Ministry of Resolution behind it. This process might be slow, but it shall not be stopped. We shall not take any risks when dealing with this "Citadel", and will only move in force when the humans have been defeated."

Several of the more aggressively-minded Sangheili looked at each other, surprised by the response, although most councillors seemed to agree with the compromise, a typical outcome for a High Council session. While the Minister of Discovery was not particularly fond of such half-measures in private, at least it got things moving; the political machinery of the Covenant was unwieldy enough without a deadlock.

-

The Minister of Discovery left the chambers of the High Council, deep in thought. The old San'Shyuum felt conflicted about the Hierarchs' decision. On one hand, the Hierarchs were the highest authority. On the other hand, he'd never known Truth to be reckless. He could not fathom a reason the Hierarchs would ignore the Citadel and instead focus on wiping out the humans first.  
_  
But Truth isn't really focusing on exterminating the humans, is he? _Discovery wondered. Truth was still only deploying a limited contingent, a fraction of the forces available to him. For all the Prophet was emphasizing destruction of the humans over combating the new enemy that was in league with those same humans, he was certainly taking his time. All of this, as well as some of the odder choices the Hierarchs made over the years, started to coalesce into a pattern. A flash of realization hit the old minister: _Truth did not want anyone he didn't trust participating in the extermination of humans. That was why even now he downplayed the threat of the Citadel in order to keep the forces of other ministries - save for a select few commanders - from getting too involved in his holy war_.

However, the Minister had known Truth for decades, and the High Prophet had never been particularly religious. Of course, Truth always gave the faith its dues, but it could hardly be the only reason for the war against the humans; there had to be something else besides the humans ostensibly being an affront to the gods.

_Truth needs the humans wiped out_, Discovery mused. _Truth needs the humans wiped out, but is being careful to only allow the forces he trusts to be a part of it._

But doubt immediately beset him. Discovery could not for the life of himself imagine what could have Truth behave this way. Greed? Ambition? Fear? Either way, it was something only the Hierarchs and their inner circle knew.

He decided he'd continue investigating this mystery… with due caution, of course. If he could find whatever drove Truth, it could give him excellent political leverage.

_Or have the High Prophet deposed. _The idea jumped into his head. _If Truth is hiding something, and I could profit greatly from discovering just what it was. Combined with the discoveries made in Citadel space, their technologies, the priceless star maps Vado could provide… just what kind of heights could I reach?_

The Minister of Discovery grinned; today wasn't so bad after all. He pressed a button on his armrest, and the gravity chair lifted off the ground, turning towards the Ministry, and flew off, nearly causing a crash when High Charity's automated traffic control network slammed an Unggoy ship to a complete stop to let Discovery pass. He did not care, though. He had plans to draft. Deals to make. Technology to design. Yes. He would need new weapons for what was to come. Powerful ones

With his course of action decided, the ancient San'Shyuum leant back in his chair. Power plays would have to wait until the shipmaster gave him his first reports. But after that? The fun could truly begin. His childhood dreams of a technocratic Covenant could perhaps become a reality after all.


	37. Chapter 37

**1457 hours, September 15th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)**

**Turian Cruiser **_**Purity of Conviction**_**, approaching New Ghent.**

"We will be entering the New Ghent system in thirty seconds, clearance codes already sent and approved, Commander." the Valkus, the Turian Communications Officer relayed, his voice steady, betraying no hint of distress. "Command has requested your immediate presence aboard Alpha Station for debriefing."

"Understood Lieutenant." Commander Rictarian Captain of the Cruiser, _Purity of Conviction_, and interim commander of what little remained of the 17th fleet replied. "Helmsman, plot a course for Alpha Station. After I disembark, make for the nearest available drydock for emergency repairs and order the rest of the Fleet to do the same. I want the 17th returned to battle-ready condition as soon as possible."

"Understood, Commander." 1st Lieutenant Prellick, replied succinctly "Dropping out of FTL in three... two... one..."

There was a sudden, hard lurch that would have thrown his crew from their seats had they not strapped themselves in, as the vessel rapidly decelerated on entry into the system, the inertial compensators slow to kick in. Rictarian was grateful that he had the foresight to order the crew into lock-down on approach. It seemed the damage to his vessel was more severe than he had initially realized. As his vessel approached New Ghent he could feel the _Purity _listing hard to Starboard. Prellick struggled to maintain a steady course towards Coalition High Command, dodging and weaving through the vast armada of warships, support vessels, and construction and supply ships that clogged New Ghent's upper orbit as the _Purity _made its way towards CHC while the rest of the 17th limped towards the repair and restoration orbital docking platforms.

Within thirty minutes, the full extent of the defenses of New Ghent came into focus. Five of the massive orbital cannons the humans called "Super MAC" loomed into view, with four more under construction. Prellick had already begun to decelerate and ease the _Purity_ towards the nearest airlock clamp as the ship's navigational computer began rapidly making small course corrections to compensate for the damaged Portside engine array. Rictarian clenched his jaw and flexed his mandibles as the cruiser drifted closer to the station, barely hiding his breath of relief as the ship came to a halt in line with the airlock, which quickly extended forth from the station and connected with his vessel.

Rictarian unbuckled himself from his commander's seat and stood, turning towards his Second in Command. "Felonius, you have the bridge. My order still stands, see to the repairs immediately."

"Yes Commander, it will be done." Felonius replied, unbuckling himself from his own seat and shifting into the Captain's chair. Rictarian nodded and made towards the airlock where a pair of Turian Marines stood at attention, ready to escort their commander onto the station. He nodded for them to stand at ease and motioned for them to follow as the pressure sealed door hissed open and he stepped out of his vessel onto Alpha Station. At the opposite end of the airlock, a squad of Human marines were waiting.

"Commander, if you would follow us, we will escort you to the meeting room." One of the Marines spoke.

The Commander nodded before he turned back to his own Marines. "You are dismissed. Return to the ship. Get yourselves something to eat and maybe some rest if you are able. I won't be gone long."

"Yes Sir." They replied, before doing as they were ordered. The Commander chanced a look out the viewport towards his beloved ship and the sight made him cringe. A gaping hole and slagged metal marred the surface of the _Purity _where her barriers had only managed to partially deflect the impact of a plasma torpedo. Any deeper and the eezo core would have been exposed to the vacuum of space. Scorch marks and small hull breaches lined the hull where concentrated pulse laser fire had melted away at the ablative coating and bitten deep into his ship. The plasma melted portside engine sputtered dangerously as the reactors struggled to keep it burning. It was a miracle that the _Purity of Conviction_ had even survived the battle, let alone make it all the way back to the Coalition staging grounds.

Rictarian forced himself to turn away followed the humans through the winding halls of the Orbital Defense platform, passing by a multitude of workers putting the final finishing touches on the station. They were predominantly human, though there were a number of Turians among them, as well as a handful of Salarians and Asari. Several of them looked up towards him with little interest as he passed before returning to their assigned tasks. Rictarian couldn't help but wonder if the word of his defeat over Fair Meadows had spread among the Coalition, it had been over a week since the disastrous encounter with the Covenant had seen the proud 17th Fleet reduced to but a handful of broken and limping ships crawling back to New Ghent licking their wounds. His fleet now, since the death of Admiral Tarilian, or at least until the Primarch stripped him of his new command and had him reassigned to guarding shipping lanes back in Citadel Space from Terminus Pirates for his failure. It was the fate he resigned himself to. The near annihilation of an entire Turian fleet was not something to be taken lightly, and retreat from battle was not something that the Hierarchy would let go unpunished.

Lost in his thoughts, Rictarian found himself caught off guard as he and his escort arrived at the conference room. One of the marines entered a code into the door control and it hissed opening, revealing the room behind it. A relatively small space on the overall cramped station with a large desk at the back of the room, a podium for speakers in the center and a handful of chairs nearest the doorway for observers. That was one thing that he appreciated about the Hierarchy's new human allies, they did not waste space needlessly. Seated at the desk were Fleer Admiral Karandis, Admiral Cole, Matriarch Aethyta, and Commander Jondum Bau of the STG. Other than them, the room was empty. Rictarian quickly straightened his posture and snapped off a salute, but the Fleet Admiral raised a hand.

"At ease Commander." he spoke coolly, and gestured towards the podium. Rictarian took the hint and stepped up, relaxing his stature and placing his hands on the platform in front of him. "We are here today to discuss with you the incident over Fair Meadows that resulted in the decimation of the 17th Fleet. Please, start from the beginning."

Rictarian swallowed, calming his nerves and steadying his voice. "Of course, my Primarch." He breathed and tapped at his omnitool, pulling up pre-prepared records and statements that he had readied for the inquiry. "The 17th has been on deep range patrol in the outermost bounds of UEG space for the past several months, serving as QRF to blunt Covenant incursions into human systems, as is standard operating procedure. Nine days ago, we received a distress signal from the human world of Fair Meadows, a remote manufacturing world that had yet to be evacuated into the core of UEG Space, warning of a Covenant attack and requesting immediate assistance. As protocol dictates, Admiral Tarilian set course for Fair Meadows and the fleet arrived within 32 hours of the call being received. By this point, the UNSC assets in orbit had been destroyed and the Covenant had made landfall, though their ships remained in high orbit. We made contact with UNSC ground command planetside and learned that they were landing troops in an attempt to seize and destroy surface-to-orbit missile silos before the fleet in orbit moved into position to commence orbital bombardment."

"What was the strength of the enemy fleet, and how did they respond to your arrival? Karandis asked, pressing his fingers together in a V.

"The flagship was a light carrier, escorted by four battlecruisers, half a dozen heavy destroyers and a dozen escorts, predominantly light cruisers and corvettes. Upon our arrival, the Covenant fleet broke off support of ground operations and started to move away from the planet on a course perpendicular to ours. Admiral Tarilian ordered the 17th fleet to intercept and both sides exchanged long range torpedo fire, largely ineffective, though several of our frigates were destroyed, and a cruiser heavily damaged, before the Covenant commander did something... unusual."

"Unusual how?" Jondum Bau inquired, his deep black eyes staring into Rictarion.

"He disengazed and retreated to slipspace, abandoning his forces on the ground."

At this point Admiral Cole leaned forward, his attention held raptly on the Commander. "The Covenant never retreats, even when the odds are utterly against them. They have always acted with near suicidal aggression."

"Yes Sir, we found this behavior unsettling as well, though Admiral Tarilian chalked it up to their commander being young and inexperienced in command. We simply assumed that he had lost his nerve when faced with an opposing force that outnumbered his own nearly ten to one. We should have known that something was wrong then and there."

"An ultimately fatal mistake." Karandis remarked. "But one that cannot be rectified with hindsight. Continue."

"Yes, Sir." Rictarian sucked in another breath. "Admiral Tarilian ordered the fleet to take position in orbit, and began readying our ground divisions to make landfall in support of the UNSC forces planetside. The Covenant on the ground had managed to take several of the silos and had dug themselves in deep. They knew that they had been abandoned by their fleet and they had every intention of selling every inch of their newly taken ground back with blood. Admiral Tarilian ordered much of our strike craft compliment to be armed for ground support, and our transports began landing troops, though the close proximity of human civilians as well as the value of those silos ruled out use of orbital bombardment in support. About an hour into ground operations, our long range scanners detected the same Covenant fleet reemerge back into the system and start making towards the planet in a long sweeping arch, seemingly attempting to find an optimal avenue of attack against the 17th. It seemed that the Covenant commander had decided that death was preferable to dishonor. Admiral Tarilian ordered me to take approximately 40% of the fleet and run an intercept course on the Covenant. So I gave chase with the ships under my command. The Covenant commander continued his arching loop through the system, pushing closer, but then pulling back when my ships moved to block. This kept on for another thirty minutes, taking us farther and farther away from the rest of the fleet and the planet."

"He baited you." Admiral Cole said, a statement rather than a question.

Rictarian locked eyes with the human commander. "Yes, sir. That is exactly what happened. It was at that point that three Covenant Assault Carriers emerged from slipspace at the center of Admiral Tarilian's formation and began firing in upon the fleet. At that close of a range, most of the fleet were unable to bring their primary mass drivers to bear against the enemy vessels, and even with massed fire, our broadside cannons were simply insufficient to penetrate their shields."

"How did the Admiral react to this sudden incursion?" Karandis asked.

"He didn't get the chance sir. His dreadnought was bisected by an Energy Projector from the lead Carrier mere seconds after their emergence. Dozens of more of the 17th were destroyed in rapid succession. The warships on the outermost perimeter attempted to open up the distance and train their main batteries on the carriers, but that was when the enemy commander truly sprung his trap. The rest of his fleet emerged from slipspace in an encircling formation, keeping better part of the 17th trapped between them and the planet. Several dozen battlecruisers, heavy cruisers, and destroyers, and what must have been double that number of escorts. A larger Covenant fleet than any reported by Turian forces. The Carriers performed another slipspace jump out of the center of our fleet formation and joined with the others. We had about as much of a chance as a caged pyjak has against a hungry Krogan.

"What did you do?" Admiral Cole asked.

"I attempted to turn my battlegroup and relieve the rest of the 17th, but the initial Covenant fleet ended their evasive maneuvering and engaged with my forces. Though, it's not as though there was much I could do for my comrades. The Covenant fleet tore them to pieces in a matter of minutes, leaving only burning wreckage and floating corpses in the void. My battlegroup was swiftly outflanked and surrounded, my ships picked off one by one until only a dozen cruisers and twenty escort frigates remained. There were no other fleets near enough to come to our aid, or to save the planet, so the only choices I had were to retreat or let my command die, so I ordered the fleet to scatter, and in keeping with the Cole Protocol, to perform several jumps in random directions in order to shake off pursuit. After several days, and once I was certain that the Covenant was not following me, I regrouped with the remnants of the 17th at preset rendezvous coordinates, reported the incident to command, and began ordered the fleet to return to New Ghent." Rictarian lowered his gaze from theirs. "I do not attempt to excuse my actions, but merely to explain them, and I know I abandoned our men on the ground, and the humans of Fair Meadows to certain death. I will accept whatever judgment this council passes upon me."

"There will be none of that nonsense." Admiral Cole interjected first, much to Rictarian's surprise. "No commander is without flaw. You were faced with an unwinnable situation and you did what you could to get the men under your command back home safely. If you had stayed you and your sailors would have died along with your soldiers and my people on the planet's surface. And we might not have learned of this new threat."

"I must agree with the Vice Admiral." Primarch Fedorian nodded. "The mark of a good soldier is not only fearlessness in the face of adversity, but also to know when a battle is unwinnable, and when to know to cut your losses, fall back and regroup. I would not have you needlessly wasting valuable lives and materials on a no-win situation. You made the right call, and should not concern yourself with any punishment you might imagine you deserve. But what matter is concerning is that of this Covenant commander. He shows a tactical acumen not yet displayed by any of his contemporaries thus far."

"It would be wise to warn other fleet commanders in the neighboring sectors of this new threat, as well." Karandis added "And perhaps to dedicate a task force to hunting down and destroying this fleet as soon as possible. These Covenant are vicious, unrelenting, and cruel. But one of their number that is vicious, unrelenting, cruel with a sense for tactics and misdirection makes my stomach turn."

"The Office of Naval Intelligence may be able to provide aid on this matter." Cole added, "From what I have heard, I believe that the UNSC has faced this individual in battle before, from his Modus Operandi and proclivity for unconventional tactics, we have strong evidence to support that this very same fleetmaster is responsible for the glassings of Camber, Mesa, and Greydown. ONI has assigned a team of agents to assigning a dossier on this fleetmaster. As long as this bastard is still alive, he'll be a thorn in our side that this coalition can not afford to ignore."

"Do we know what he is called?." Matriarch Aethyta asked.

Cole nodded.

"Thel'Vadamee."


	38. Chapter 38

**1900 hours, May 15th, 2542  
Herald of Abundance. Dock 109, Spires of Plenty, High Charity**

Vado stalked the halls of his ship. They were going to leave soon, and he wanted to see if everything was prepared like he had been promised. The crew had arrived, ten Rangers who were to be commanded by the nameless Ultra who was the only other survivor of the attack on New Ghent. He had decided to take a walk to clear his mind. To remember why he was committed to his task.

The ship was silent. A tension hung in the air as the crew of the Herald of Abundance prepared for departure. Ever since the extent of the new enemy had become clear, an air of unease had spread through the crew. Not one of fear. But one of profound unease at their lack of knowledge. They would head further out of Covenant space than anyone had ever done so before. Their ship had the finest equipment they could spare for the journey. But that was only so much.

The ship had undergone serious retrofitting to be capable of the long-range deployment that it had been designed for. It had been extended by forty meters to allow for increased fuel storage due to the rear half of the ship being overhauled extensively to install a larger engine, and fuel reserve. The new engine could modulate its output to emulate whatever the Hard Light Disguise Matrix was disguising the ship as. This would allow it to take on the appearance, as well as power signature of any ship of a similar size. The ship had also been fitted with a cloaking device, although this took an inordinate amount of power to sustain for long periods. The hard light matrix could be used to compensate for this, copying the surrounding space and projecting a false image to hide from optical sensors, although strong enough sensors would see right through.

Vado 'Mavamee went through the specifications for the weaponry in his head, grinning as he saw them in his mind's eye. A single plasma-torpedo launcher at the bottom of the ship, which could send its torpedo in any direction. The ship had eight small pulse laser turrets, each with two barrels that fired one after the other. These turrets had an excellent overlapping field of fire, but could all be aimed forward to maximize forward firepower. Finally, there were two plasma lances, one in each "wing" of the Stormcutter. The smaller plasma lances would have issues with larger human ships. But could effortlessly cut through anything up to a human cruiser. If they were attacked, the ship could punch its way through most small blockades with ease.

The ship was everything he could dream of. A crew of trained professionals. And a sacred duty to spread the light of the faith to the distant corners of the Galaxy. It was the kind of duty any Sangheili worth his geks would dream of.

But then why did he still feel so uneasy? There was a weight upon his twin hearts that nothing could suppress. An unspoken worry.

He was afraid.

Not for himself, but for his daughters. His family was a small one. From a remote Sangheili world so minor, that it wasn't even on most maps. Sentonis. It had been a harsh world of massive cyclopean six-limbed beasts. With a biosphere that had only been tamed with judicious deployment of plasma bombardment. On that world, his family had been some of the first settlers, raising a mighty keep in defiance of the dangerous world. It had taken them many years, but over the generations, his family had tamed the land around them, domesticated the giant wooly beasts of burden that had become his family's main source of income, and set up a thriving textile industry. One that brought great wealth to their keep, and had earned them some renown. Their fortunes had only improved when great Xenite deposits had been uncovered on the world. The key resource for pulse laser and fusion reactors. They had grown fast then, drawing in a great rush of workers from across the Covenant. They were still a small keep compared to the great states of Sanghelios or Blyke, but they had earned a reputation for excellent craftsmanship.

But this new wealth had led to the creation of new keeps upon Sentonis. And new keeps meant internecine war and conflict. Small scale at first. Skirmishes. Honor duels. The usual Sangheili fare. But this only escalated as the smaller keeps grew Jealous of the 'Mavamee keep's rich deposits.

Then a plague had spread through the keep, killing most of the livestock his family had depended on. Seeing this as a message of the gods to focus upon their new persuit, the Keep had a grand temple to Faber the Builder constructed. The 'Mavamee family had focused upon their mineral wealth and had grown to be a family Artisan-armorers, not warriors. Their fame had spread far and wide, and had drawn the attention of the great Shipwrights of the Covenant.  
So when the news came that a new Supercarrier had been commissioned, _the Hammer of Faith_, the family had been ecstatic when the 'Mavamee keep was asked to aid in the construction of its fusion reactor. Giving thanks to the gods, most males of his Keep had packed their tools and equipment, and taken the first ships to Zhoist. His father, uncles, brothers, nephews. Almost all adult males of his family had gone to the sacred world of Zhoist, to march barefoot through each of the ten cities once inhabited by the gods, before moving to assist in the construction of the supercarrier. It had been seen as a blessing, a true chance to show the Covenant the skill of their artisans.

Then the humans came. Their armored demons had laid waste to Zhoist, sacking the sacred cities and slaying the people in the streets. They had slain the defenders, and deployed nuclear ordinance upon the quarters housing the laborers working upon the supercarrier. The _Hammer of Faith _was destroyed before it ever flew, half a million Sangheili laborers slain. And his family line had nearly been destroyed in a single day. The worst part, however, was that he couldn't feel angry at the humans. They had struck back in the face of their destruction, after all. That part still nagged at him. At times he couldn't help but consider, for the briefest moments of doubt, if the humans deserved their fate. But he squashed those thoughts whenever they happened. The Hierarchs had spoken.

He had barely been an adult when he became Kaidon and immedistely had to fight off multiple assassination attempts by his advisors. Said advisors's skeletons still hung from the battlements of his keep. He had crushed the upstarts and waged several guerilla campaigns against neighboring keeps that had probed his territory. With his keep secure, he had tried to get their affairs back in order, but much knowledge and many skilled workers had been lost upon Zhoist. Generations of knowledge and skill lost with the masters and the acolytes learning under them both being lost. 'Mavamee keep was left with their Xenite deposits, but without the skilled labor to process it.

In the meager years after that tragedy, he had fathered many children with the women of his keep, and married the love of his life there, Mela 'Mutamai. The commander of his personal guard after her husband had fallen on Zhoist. He had one daughter pure to his line, and six acknowledged as his own. But no son to carry on the family name. If he died, the keep would either go to his trueborn, Kela 'Mavam, and unless she followed the legend of the Grey Crone, and refused to marry. She would eventually be forced to find a suitor. Or be forced to take one. Or worst of all, the keep could fall to an invader, and his daughters might be killed to secure the rule of its new master. The women of 'Mavam keep were strong, however. They had formed a militia after the death of their husbands, and fought like the Sangheili of ancient legend to keep their lands safe. With energy lances, they had driven off many opportunistic attacks. But numbers would eventually have won out.

Vado had found a solution, however. To attack a keep whose Kaidon was on crusade was a grave taboo. One that the smaller keeps that bordered his own would refuse to break. He had joined the Covenant fleet to buy his wife time to get their keep back in order. He'd gone through training with flying colors, and became a skilled Seraph pilot, quickly rising through the ranks. He had become the commander of a Tithe ship, and eventually a Tithe Fleet. Traveling through the Covenant fringe, gathering the bounty of a hundred worlds to deliver to the Holy City. When he had reached the point he felt he should find a Ministry to serve, he found the Ministry of Discovery. And in it, a natural ally.

The Ministry had seen better times, but still had access to many potent technologies. Technologies that his keep could use. A deal had been made, and his Keep was modernized with the finest the Minister of Discovery could provide. A true fortress of overlapping defensive turrets, a shield generator that could defend against Orbital bombardment, and the logistics needed to fully tap into his keep's natural resources. The machinery used to extract and process the wealth of his keep was advanced enough, that some muttered about them being possessed of machine intelligence. The ones spreading those lies had been gutted and fed to the Xenite furnace as an example for all who would slander the 'Mavamee name.

The mission Discovery had given him could secure the wealth and status of his family for generations. He could find rich suitors for his daughters, suitors from wealthy worlds blessed by the gods. While Kela would remain on Sentonis, with the means necessary to make the keep thrive once more. But if he failed. They would be thrown for the wolves. His daughters carried off as wives, slain to end his line, or just fading into obscurity as menial servants. No. That was unacceptable. He would face a demon with his bare claws before he let that happen.

His deep contemplation was interrupted when he came upon the armory, the door was open and a bright light shone into the hallway.

"Would you look at that!" A sound came from the armory. It was the T'Vaoan Sek'Telapo. He was chattering excitedly about something. Vado could hear rummaging. Was the T'vaoan doing something in the armory? He'd better investigate.

"I didn't even know these were legal!" Came the voice of Yapyap. "I can't wait to use this."

"Don't get too excited. These are sacred tools you're handling. Show them some respect!" He heard Len'Vellana speaking in her usual velvety voice and letting out a short giggle afterward. "I understand you're excited, but do not let your emotions rule you."  
"Forgive me, your grace. It's not often that we get to use the special stuff. Get what I'm saying?" Sek said nonchalantly. Vado was inclined to break his neck for speaking to a San'Shyuum that way if he hadn't known about Vellana's preference to be treated like any other member of the crew.

Vado barged into the armory, taking a good look at what was going on. "What is this commotion about?" He asked in a neutral voice.

The three inhabitants of the armory went quiet and turned to look at him. They were standing around a large supply crate filled with smaller metal boxes, each looking through the contents of one box respectively. Yapyap was holding some kind of fuel rod cannon. He was halfway through examining the firing mechanism. Meanwhile, Sek was holding a large crate of Subanese crystals for his needle rifle. Examining each of them for imperfections. Vellana was holding large metallic staff, which Vado recognized as an unlit double-sided Energy lance. The traditional weapon for Sangheili females. How she had acquired one, he did not know.

Vellana stepped forward, to which Vado gave a deep bow. She smiled and motioned for him to rise. "Discovery has sent us equipment for our mission. You were wandering the ship in contemplation, so I wished not to disturb you. You know how soldiers are with new weapons."

He mustered the courage to go against his indoctrination, and speak out against her. "I understand, your grace. But inform me the next time something of this nature arrives." He paused. "...Is there anything for me?" he added, somewhat sheepishly he -did- like his guns.

Vellana pointed towards a box with his name on it. Discovery did like to keep everyone supplied to the best of his abilities. It was how he inspired loyalty. While Discovery did not have the kind of raw financial wealth many San'Shyuum had, he made up for it in access to exotic technologies. He walked up and opened the box, revealing a Sangheili point defense gauntlet. He put it onto his wrist. It felt quite comfortable to wear, while it still had a somewhat satisfying weight. He turned it on, getting a feeling for the weight of the device. It was so light, he might almost cut himself with the shield's edge if he didn't carefully pay attention.

He removed some careful padding that obscured one of the other items in the box. It was a Type-25 plasma rifle of utterly impeccable craftsmanship. The weapon felt almost weightless in his hand when he picked it up. Never had he held such a fine rifle. He returned it to the box, to take a look at the other equipment.

He raised an eyebrow at the smallest object. It was a modified plasma pistol, of a type he had never seen before. Its lower half was a bright red, and the sights were white. He picked it up to examine it. Sek immediately turned to look at the device.

"Bo- Shipmaster. Do you know what that is you're holding?" Sek asked.

"A plasma pistol," Vado replied. "One painted quite garishly. Red is for Majors, not a Shipmaster."

"That's a Spitfire Plasma Pistol. I thought they'd all been destroyed when the artisans making them got executed for heresy! I used to smuggle them to the Special Warfare group. Rangers loved using them." He paused and coughed. "Uhhh. I got pardoned for that too. You know, the whole deal with the concubine- I'll shut up now."

Vado examined the pistol. "No, please continue. You are quite amusing." The weapon felt heavier than a normal plasma pistol, and when he aimed it at the wall, a holographic sight popped up. "Heavier than I am used to, but it would work well in one hand, with my energy sword in the other." He whirled the pistol around his index finger. This was his favorite part about being in the service of Discovery. The way he always provided the best equipment.

"Uhh. Shipmaster. I have a question." Yapyap asked as he put the fuel rods for his cannon aside. "Why are we being sent upon this mission? Wouldn't a task this important be given to Zealots?"

"The Ministry of Discovery is running low on income. This is all we can afford." Vado said bluntly. "We will put our faith into the gods and head towards this realm. The wealth we find there shall be great. Perform well, and I will give each of you a fine share of my reward. Now. Show me what Discovery provided you with."

Yapyap held up his type-33 fuel rod cannon. it was a dark red, and its fuel rod reservoir looked significantly more sturdy than any of these weapons Vado had used. He immediately surmised what it was. "This is what we used to call a "Cancer Rod Cannon" when I served in the Spec Ops. Unstable fuel rods, laced with the same mixture of radioactive waste used by Carbines. Proximity fuses. Very illegal. Very powerful. You know something is good when even the Zealots ban using these weapons." He pointed towards a glowing blue device upon his belt. "There were also some energy shield belts for us. Never used one before."

Discovery gave an Unggoy and a T'Vaoan energy shielding? Vado mused that whatever anyone could say about the Minister, he made sure his servants were armed as best as possible. Although he doubted it was for altruistic reasons.

Sek showed Vado the two plasma pistols he had been given. Two normal-looking plasma pistols, but painted green instead of the traditional purple. "Twin rapid-fire plasma pistols with holographic sights. Kig-Yar pattern. Just like my mother used to make. Also. An energy shield like Yapyap's, and this beauty." He igniting a short energy cutlass, one that appeared to be based upon an energy sword.

Vado was speechless at the heresy he was seeing. A modified plasma sword. For a Kig-Yar. Had Discovery gone mad?

"Your mother was an Artisan?" Vellana asked, smiling warmly. Seemingly uncaring about the heresy in front of her.

"She was. Yes! She traded in the weapons discarded by the Sacred Promissory due to failing the quality standards. She'd salvage them, jury rig them to be useful, then sell them on. Until she accidentally blew herself up."

"Accidentally, or, _'Accidentally'_?'' Yapyap air quoted.

"I wish. It would have meant I'd have gotten something except inheriting her debts. I joined the army to escape the merchant guilds trying to get their cut. Its where I met Yapyap. Been together ever since." The T'Vaoan put a hand on Yapyap's shoulder, who nodded.

"Has everyone except me here used unlicensed technology?" Vado asked incredulously. "Is this what fighting is like for the Unggoy and Kig-Yar. Unlicensed technology? Black market trading? Even the Minister appears to be involved in this. This is just-" Vellana put a hand on his shoulder. He instantly went silent to let her speak.

"Vado 'Mavamee. As a shipmaster, you have not seen what life can be like for the lower castes of the Covenant. But I have. I've seen the lower depths of High Charity, the places that no other San'Shyuum has set foot for a thousand years. They truly have to bend the rules to survive. Please. Life isn't so simple for most of the Covenant. Surely you have had to bend the rules yourself at times? Discovery sees potential in these two and has provided them with the best possible equipment. Surely you trust them with these devices."

Vado couldn't answer. Instead, he nodded.

"I… If you say so, your grace. You have given me much to ponder."

The Ultra from New Ghent entered the armory. He looked at what was happening, cocked his helmeted head to the side. Then moved over towards the crate marked with a white rune. He opened the crate, and took out two plasma swords, putting them on his hips. He then closed the crate, turning to look at Vado, and saluted the Shipmaster, crossing his twin hearts with his right arm. "I am sworn to your service for this mission. But do not sully my name with dishonorable conduct, or I would be mandated to end you. She might pour poison in your ear to justify techno-heresy, but I will not touch any device not sanctified to its full extent."

An Ultra, or Evocatus was the ultimate Sangheili warrior. One who devoted his every waking moment to mastering combat, whose every action would be recorded for all time within the archives of High Charity. Vado would have killed any other Sangheili on the spot for those words, but one did not slay an Evocatus without due cause. And even then, he wasn't sure he could face a warrior as formidable as him.

"Then why, pray tell, are you still here? You could have refused my request to the Minister for your assistance. Such would be within your rights." Vado asked sternly.

"Because you will bring the light of the gods to this "Citadel" and I would gladly be a part of it. As a member of the Servants of Sundered Stars, I would rather donate blood to a prisoner than sit out a fight as righteous as this." The Evocatus said in a slow calculating voice, one that hinted at great intelligence and ruthlessness.

"_The Servants of Sundered Stars_?" _A Didact cult. _Vado had heard of such religious practices before. Fraternities of warriors dedicated to one of the gods whose name was known. The Didact was the most feared of the gods. Seen as both a harbinger of victory and a bringer of destruction. The ancient texts spoke of the Didact as the most dangerous of the gods, not one to beseech unless the situation was dire. Vado had never been involved in the direct worship of the Didact, instead, he and his family had dedicated their keep's temple to Faber, blessed be the Maethrillian.

Didact, the Shadow of Sundered-Stars, Faber, the Builder of Will and Might, and the Librarian She Who Wove Living Song were the gods whose names were most known by the Covenant and had therefore achieved a special significance to many. Leading to some groups focussing purely on the worship of one of these individuals.

At times this trinitarian belief was considered apostasy and confined to the frontiers, only to spread further through the Covenant when the faith, for a time, gathered San'Shyuum supporters who supported this new viewpoin. Vado did not know what to make of an Evocatus being part of such an obscure sect. He found the idea of venerating one god above another a foreign concept. Dedicating a shrine to one of the gods was one thing, but considering the Didact superior to the Faber? Civil wars had broken out over smaller doctrinal differences. He would need to be careful to not let this disagreement fracture the crew. For now, they all shared the same goal.

Vellana narrowed her eyes at the masked Evocatus. "You forget your place, Evocatus. She-Who-Weaves-Living-Song created us. You should be careful before dedicating yourself to the worship of the destroyer. Such a life will bring you no rewards."

The two looked at each other, and then the Evocatus slowly nodded when he realized the San'Shyuum would not back down. He gave her a short bow, then moved to take stock of the Armory of the ship.

Vado returned to the matter at hand, happy to end this part of the conversation. "Tomorrow we shall depart. Make your final preparations, then climb into your stasis capsule. We shall wake when the time is right." He wished he hadn't been sworn to such secrecy. He would have liked to send his daughters one last message before he left. He promised himself he would make up for it when he returned. He was the last to leave the armory, and turned off the lights.


	39. Chapter 39

**1600 hours, September 16th, 2542  
Alluvion. Low orbit.**

John-117 was falling from orbit.

Again.

He'd hit the ground in a few minutes, according to his suit's computer. The MJOLNIR's gel layer was ready to pressurize just before impact, the newly-installed kinetic barriers were still online after having kept the re-entry plasma at bay for so long, and his pressure seals still held. With his ability to maneuver being limited at the moment, all he could do now was wait, wait and think. After all, the Covenant were jamming their long-range communications, making any attempts to send a message pointless. Besides, even if he tried to brute-force a transmission through, the Covenant would home in on his signal, and linking up with friendly forces would be hard enough without having to evade Covenant air patrols.

It had seemed like a simple search-and-destroy op at the start. They had been deployed to destroy a hard target on Alluvion, one of many worlds rescued or retaken by the UNSC since the start of Operation: CRUSADER - the fight to retake the Outer Colonies.

Although… it hadn't been the UNSC, had it? It had been a joint effort involving humanity's new allies from the other side of the galaxy. The turians had deployed eleven thousand soldiers to the planet as the escorting asari flotilla drove the Covenant ships away from the planet.. The turian troops were detached from the 13th Palaven Legion, a formation that had earned a reputation for high-risk orbital assaults. After landing, they had linked up with the 101st Independent ODST Regiment, nicknamed "the Screaming Eagles", and secured the planetary capital. The combined force then proceeded to go on the offensive, while the asari ships in orbit destroyed those Covenant strongholds that had their shield generators disabled by asari commandos in daring raids.

This was a well-executed combined arms operation; the disparate units from different militaries were working well together, and this served as a good example of what the Coalition could accomplish, especially now that humanity was able to catch a breath. With the Citadel Expeditionary Force having for the time being taken over much of the combat operations in the invasion corridor, the UNSC was consolidating and redeploying most of its forces in the Inner Colonies and working hard at recovering its combat power. The results were already showing: for the first time since the war began, the UNSC was producing more warships than it was losing, and the ratio would continue to improve when the new shipyards were brought online. The Army and the Marines were also enjoying the fruits of the alliance: new units were being raised, and the existing formations received new equipment and broke out their best gear out of storage. With the production of many types of parts and components now being outsourced to the Citadel manufacturers, the heavier vehicles such as Grizzlies and Vultures, previously carefully hoarded and only deployed to provide a decisive advantage over the enemy forces, were now becoming a common sight once again. All this was good news to John, even though the UNSC relying so heavily on alien military aid - because that was exactly that, aid - would take some getting used to.

Currently, the only human forces still engaging the Covenant were the Helljumpers and select regiments of the Marines and Army that remained combat-effective after over a decade of attrition. Now almost universally equipped with the hardsuits provided by the Citadel's lend lease, with the finest being modified for use by the ODST's. These were supported by the best vehicles the UNSC could produce, the UNSC's ground forces were finally able to contest the Covenant without requiring gross numerical superiority. And as the UNSC adapted to the new paradigm, this would only continue. The first prototypes for Semi-Powered armor for ODST's would soon be deployed, and the first UNSC hardsuits were hopefully not far behind.

Even his Spartans had changed in this new age. Their MJOLNIR suits have been upgraded with the newly available technologies; the kinetic barriers were a welcome boost to the suit's survivability, while the newly-installed omni-tools and micro fabricators, most of their functions tied into the Spartans' neural laces for convenience, provided a degree of battlefield support. Moreover, thanks to the Citadel's intervention pushing the Covenant back, the routine of desperate defensive battles until the Covenant started glassing gave way to a series of back-to-back offensive operations. Spartan teams were being deployed from planet to planet, crushing Covenant strongpoints so the turians could roll up and complete their objective,

Questions were being asked, though, and keeping the Spartans a secret from the Citadel was proving to be an almost impossible prospect due to their heavy use of drones. While combat drones were nothing new to the UNSC, the CEF doctrine took them to the next level, flooding the battlefield with thousands of surveillance and combat support drones, all recording information for use by the troops. Naturally, they inevitably captured images of Spartans in action. A compromise had been reached in the end: the Citadel would not inquire into the Spartans, and the UNSC wouldn't compromise battlefield effectiveness for the sake of secrecy. The official story the UNSC gave was that the Spartans were a special forces outfit consisting of augmented operatives using experimental powered armor, their true identities classified in order to protect them from retaliation by the enemies of the UNSC. It was even technically true… mostly.

This was how Blue Team came to be deployed to Alluvion. The Covenant made themselves at home on this world, building deep bunkers and shielded fortresses. After the loss of several commando teams Matriarch Aethyta, the commander of the CEF ground forces, had asked for Spartan assistance in breaking into Covenant bases. In light of this, NAVSPECWAR had deployed Blue Team as the first Spartan team to cooperate with alien special forces.  
Upon arriving in low orbit above Alluvion, Blue Team had prepared to take a Pelican for a suborbital hop towards their target, using the deployment of the turian garrison that would be stationed on the planet - until the UNSC could deploy a garrison of their own - as cover. John had been called aside by the leader of the asari squad Blue Team was deploying alongside to discuss the upcoming mission.

Then the Covenant had attacked.

One moment, John- was talking to the asari officer, the next the hangar door imploded. Blown out into space, he tried to contact his team, but the Covenant was jamming their communications. As he worked to reorient himself, slow down and assess the situation, John got several glimpses of the battle unfolding above him.

Above him - relative to the planet - was the Covenant assault carrier that had emerged from slipspace just seconds before. The carrier and the three cruisers escorting it were currently in a life-or-death struggle with the Coalition forces in orbit. Ships were exploding left and right as streams of dropships launched from the carrier and the cruisers towards the planet below.

The carrier's shields rippled as six asari frigates converted into unmanned fireships slammed into the shield with their engines pushed to flank acceleration, detonating their payloads. The shields collapsed entirely, plasma and shrapnel from the explosion washing over the exposed hull, but just as the UNSC Marathon-class cruiser _Shield of Bone_ lined up a shot, pulse laser fire hit its bow, destroying sensors and armor and warping the MAC's barrel into uselessness.

A bit over a minute remained until he hit the ground. While John had slowed down considerably, his velocity was still too high. His options exhausted, he grit his teeth and prepared for the inevitable crash.

"Do not move, human!" a voice broke into his COM channel. The suit's computer determined the rough direction the signal was coming from; considering the jamming, the source had to be close. A second later, a contact entered his motion tracker range. Carefully, he turned to face the newcomer..

It was the asari from before. She was falling directly towards him, pointing her entire body straight down to reduce air resistance. As soon as she overtook him, she reached out and took hold of his shoulder, clambering onto his back and holding tight.

"Explain yourself," John-117 asked plainly, refraining from pulling her off his back only due to her being an ally and him needing to bleed off more speed.

"Human, I have a plan to survive this, but you need to remain perfectly still." She said, pointing past his head at a large lake. "I'll need my full concentration to slow us down while you guide us into the lake. Just before we impact, I'll let go, and you hit the water feet first." The asari sounded calm and serene, completely unfazed by what was happening.

He had considered heading for the water, but decided against it after calculating the odds. At the speed he was traveling at, a water landing would be indistinguishable from crashing into the hills, with a high chance of dying either way. However, if he hit the ground and broke his legs (or sustained other injuries that rendered him unable to continue), he could at least crawl to safety and wait for rescue. If that happened underwater, death would be practically assured, especially in the event of suit breach.

Still, if the asari had a better landing strategy, he had nothing to lose by following her advice. John nodded and leaned to the side, guiding himself towards the lake. The asari on his back wrapped her legs around his waist and then stretched out her arms, summoning a field of blue energy around them - the "biotics" John had been briefed on. To John's amazement, they started rapidly losing velocity, and the suit's computer instantly updated its estimates, giving him much better odds.

They hit the water.

The shock of the impact shook John to his ceramic bones, and for a moment it felt like they might snap. Then he and his passenger broke through the surface and sank to the bottom of the lake. Before he hit the bottom, however, the biotic field lit up again. John suddenly felt much lighter and, to his surprise, realized he was actually buoyant enough to swim now. He'd he'd never swum in MJOLNIR before, but he got the hang of it after a few experimental strokes. He swam towards the surface as the asari clung to his back.

Soon after they breached the surface, the water became shallow enough for them to walk. As John waded onto the sandy shore, the asari let go, got to her feet and, removing the helmet with a smooth motion, followed him. The two set out towards a nearby thicket of tall trees; once they reached it and confirmed the coast was clear, they began inspecting their gear.

Now John got his first good look at the asari officer. She looked old for their race, with eyes that seemed to radiate centuries of experience and conflict. He knew a veteran when he saw one, and this one was definitely a veteran. Having checked her helmet for busted seals and seepage, the asari adjusted the circlet on her forehead, shook her helmet one last time and put it back on. The helmet, made of dull blackened metal with blue hues, followed the contours of her head crest. It was matched with a heavy dull blue-and-gray camouflage hardsuit with tactical webbing attached to it, with a few subtle ornamental designs on the pauldrons that set her apart from the other asari commandos John had worked with over the last few months, and a red stripe painted across the middle of the chestplate, with smaller stripes highlighting the armored plating attached to the black undersuit. Unlike the thinner, form-fitting stealth suits worn by asari or salarian infiltrators, this was battle armor. She unfolded a submachine gun MJOLNIR's computer identified as M-9 Tempest and examined it for any water damage.

"This is a human world. I'll follow your lead, Master Chief Petty Officer." she said, nodding at him as she counted her grenades and examined her other weapon - the Disciple shotgun, John remembered from the briefings. He noted that this particular weapon was much more ornate than the weapons he'd seen in the hands of other asari or UNSC soldiers who had scavenged one from a battlefield.

John did the same. He reached for the rifle on his back, taking it and examining the weapon for any faults. It was a turian Phaeston rifle whose casing had been replaced with a facsimile of an MA5 series assault rifle, better suited to the ergonomics of the Spartans. The changes weren't just cosmetic: the gun was equipped with a larger ammo block and additional heat sinks, its internal mechanisms modified to fire heavier rounds. The gun would not be winning any beauty contests - it looked like an MA5B with another rifle growing inside it - but John had grown to appreciate its versatility and practically bottomless magazines. The latter made the gun especially popular with his Spartans, because it, like all other mass accelerator weapons, significantly increased their combat endurance.. It was most often supplemented by UNSC weapons, specifically those that used the kinds of explosive rounds or other specialist munitions that a mass accelerator rifle couldn't fabricate itself.

And, thanks to John's new omni-tool and fabricators now installed in his gauntlets, he could convert any suitable piece of scrap - or the reserves of "omni-gel" he carried with him - into new ammunition blocks or replacement parts. This in particular had been a game-changer for the UNSC ground forces, whose logistics officers breathed a sigh of relief now that the infantry no longer needed constant shipments of ammunition. John personally preferred the accuracy and fire rate of the MA5B but had to concede that the virtually non-existent logistical footprint made the Phaeston a superior weapon.

"The Covenant is going to break out of their mountain bases soon, now that their reinforcements have arrived in orbit. The nearest response forces will be moving to intercept the assault carrier as fast as they can, but it's going to take time for them to arrive, especially for the fleet units stationed in other systems. Until then, we're on our own," John explained, now inspecting his M6D magnum. There seemed to be some kind of blockage; the normally reliable sidearm refused to work properly. At the same time he once again tried to raise Blue Team or any other friendly forces, but only received static in response. "The Covenant have some kind of jamming system in place. I can't get a signal through. We are on our own unless we can disable those jammers or get out of range."

The asari put a hand on the side of her helmet. "That does not leave us with many options then. I am curious, however. Have the Covenant deployed these kinds of tactics before, human?" she asked as she unsheathed a sword and began sharpening it with her omni-tool.

John raised an eyebrow at the sight. Of course, the energy swords used by Elites were similarly somewhat anachronistic, but they were at least able to cut through Titanium-A as if it were butter. Perhaps it was a sidearm or an assassination weapon? This was not without precedent; combat knives issued to Spartans were as heavy as a sword to an unaugmented human, and he had made good use of them in the past. Maybe the metal had special properties? Or, perhaps, it was part of the uniform of whatever unit she belonged to - as he recalled from the briefings he'd received, the asari had no unified national military. For now, though, he wrote it off as a symbol of office or a ceremonial weapon.

"No, ma'am, not to this extent," John shook his head as he continued to try to clear the blockage, to no avail. He could now see that the slide was deformed, so he removed it, used the omni-tool built into his right gaunlet's fabricators to break it down and then rebuild it, and put it back in place. The whole process took eight seconds. "Ever since Operation: CRUSADER started, we've seen the Covenant employing new tactics and equipment that we have not seen them use before. ONI thinks it's because the Covenant used to see planetary invasions as some form of religious ritual, whereas now they're starting to treat it as an actual war. They are now establishing a more robust support network and building comprehensive defenses to protect it. Shielded fortresses, cloaked anti-orbital cannons, electronic warfare - they're learning quickly."

John thought back to New Milan and how the Covenant had almost killed Blue Team there. The exposed AA positions his team was sent to disable turned out to be a trap, and the Covenant commander deployed the troops he'd kept in reserve as soon as they were sure Spartans were there, with the orbital window closing when hidden anti-orbital guns opened fire. Air raids from previously-cloaked airfields had ravaged the UNSC air force and broken the orbital landings, while fresh Covenant troops moving from hidden bases had massacred the ODST and Marine forces who'd made planetfall. Then there were the incessant raids the Covenant Spec Ops Elites launched on field headquarters and command centers. After the anti-Scarab raid, Blue Team had been relegated to guarding the main UNSC command center on New Milan. They'd had to fight off four separate Covenant raids before the Covenant had been pushed off the planet. And now the Covenant was displaying new levels of EWAR that he didn't know they were capable of. It was to be expected that the Covenant wouldn't sit back and do nothing as they were driven away from the Inner Colonies.

A beam of purple plasma lanced into the sky, several kilometers away. John turned to track it, MJOLNIR's binoculars engaging automatically, and saw the beam blast through what had to be a UNSC ship in low orbit. At this distance, it was hard to pick out the ship against the night sky and determine its class, even with the binoculars at maximum zoom; going by the vaguely rifle-shaped silhouette, it had to be a frigate. The ship broke up as its reactors detonated, consuming the ship in a fireball. With a ship destroyed that close to the planet, the radioactive materials aboard would contaminate wherever the wreckage crashed. Even if the Coalition won, large parts of Alluvion would be rendered uninhabitable by the irradiated debris and fissiles from unused nuclear ordnance.

"I see the Covenant have brought anti-orbital weapons online," the asari commented. "Their presence on this planet must be stronger than we had predicted."

"I believe we're only starting to see just what Covenant defenses are like. For most of this war, we have never truly fought determined, well-entrenched Covenant defenders." John said, examining his frag grenades one by one. "The theories by military intelligence that they didn't take us seriously are starting to look correct. This war is only going to get worse from here."

"Are you worried, human?" the asari asked sincerely.

He chose his words carefully. "I'm not worried, but I am concerned about it. The Covenant are nothing if not persistent, and they are working to mitigate any advantage we have in every way they this war started, we had superior small unit tactics and commanders on the ground. We lost that advantage within two years due to the Covenant learning to target our command and control nodes first. The attrition only compounded this."

The asari officer nodded. Whatever she might have felt, she must have hidden it well. "And now they are using new naval tactics as well to mitigate the numerical advantage we have. I am worried for your species. The Citadel has most of the galaxy to fall back on, and if the Covenant advance through our systems as fast as they did through yours, it would take them centuries to defeat us. That would give us ample time to adapt their technology and turn it upon them. You have no such luxury."

"We'll fight the Covenant for centuries if we have to," she continued. "We did it against the rachni and the krogan. We'll do it again."

Another bright flash lit up in low orbit. John activated his binoculars again, zooming in only to see a glowing debris cloud, although the prow section was large enough and intact enough for him to recognize it as belonging to a Covenant battlecruiser. The enemy ship must have suffered a massive internal explosion; either it was a secondary explosion caused by battle damage, or someone snuck a nuke aboard. John assumed it to be the Blue Team's doing - they were in the Pelican with engines hot when he left, and they definitely had the skill.

The asari finished sharpening her sword and sheathed it at her side. She then started inspecting her pistol - an M-6 Carnifex, according to the warbook. Its finish was beautifully ornate, with the image of an asari wrapped around the barrel. "What will happen to this planet if the Coalition fleet loses?"

"The Covenant will enter orbit and glass the planet. Or they'll land forces to fight the defenders and secure whatever they're looking for, and then they will glass it. In either event, we'll die if we can't evacuate. And with the Covenant deploying jammers, that will be exceedingly difficult. We either make a break for UNSC lines and try to find transport off this planet..." John cocked his magnum to test the slide; it was as good as new. He could get used to this. "Or we cut through the Covenant lines, disable every anti-orbital cannon and communications jammer we can find, hijack a Covenant dropship and head for safety to regroup."

"How often have you done that?"

"On occasion, ma'am," John stated matter-of-factly.

"Call me Justicar Samara, human ranks do not have an equivalent for my position in asari society. I will defer to your leadership in these matters." she said, her Carnifex pistol coming back to life with a satisfying clack. "Lead the way. There are those who must face the justice of the goddess."

John nodded. "I'm on point. We'll start with the anti-orbital cannons."


	40. Chapter 40

**1617 hours, September 16th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)**

**White Forest, The Thumb peninsula, Alluvion**

"This is their lair?" Samara asked the Spartan as they observed the Covenant base from atop a steep slope that overlooked the entire base.

After a two-kilometer run they had finally stumbled upon the Covenant anti-orbital weapon. It had already shot down several ships and damaged several more. It was currently silent, but that would not last long. They had to take it offline before it could claim more lives.

The Covenant and their genocidal war were an atrocity upon the galaxy, Samara reflected. They were a cancer that had to be excised in the name of the Goddess and the Code. And she would not rest until they were destroyed.

When word of the Covenant had reached the Justicar Order, a conclave of Justicars had been convened on Thessia to decide the best course of action. All Justicars in Asari space were called upon to attend. The vote was near-unanimous: for the first time since the Krogan Rebellions the Justicars were going to war. All who could be spared were asked to head to aid the Asari Expeditionary Force. Twenty of the finest Justicars in existence were sent to answer the call.

Some Justicars ventured out alone to find human worlds that would accept their aid, a few grouped up into small squads to work directly for the Citadel Expeditionary Force as special forces, while others tagged along with Commando teams or other military units.

Samara had walked into the Thessia Defense Command, sought out the Matriarch commanding the forces stationed on Thessia and demanded to be allowed to join the CEF. Her previous service record and the authority the Order wielded were a convincing enough argument, and soon afterwards she found herself on a high-speed shuttle bound for the Orion Relay, accompanied by a squad of commandos she'd been assigned to lead - a detachment from Serrice Guard, one of the most acclaimed commando units in history.

Her most recent assignment was to deploy on a colony world called Alluvion alongside a human special operations team and assist them in destroying a particularly tenacious Covenant holdout. Unfortunately, things did not go to plan - she had been discussing the particulars of the mission with her human counterpart, just minutes before launching, when she had suddenly been spaced, courtesy of the Covenant.

Now here she was, behind enemy lines, in a forest alongside a human commando who radiated pure professionalism and danger in equal measure. His every movement was economical, precise, not hindered in the slightest by the heavy suit of armor he was wearing, and he spoke with a professionalism that bordered on inhuman. Whatever he was, it was fascinating.

He was lying on his stomach, scoping out the Covenant base with what she assumed were binoculars built into his helmet. The base was located in a large clearing; at its core was a large prefabricated structure, painted green and covered with camouflage netting. It appeared to serve as the hub for the Covenant. Across a "road" that was more of a dirt track there were several smaller prefabs, presumably the storage. Further down the road, there was a large anti-orbital cannon almost fifty meters tall - a Type-38 "Tyrant" anti-air gun, according to the humans.. Ringing those core structures were several barracks, which were in turn surrounded by a thin wall. There were no vehicles in sight, although they could have been hidden in one of the larger prefabs. Hovering sniper nests with Jackals inside were deployed every forty meters or so, surrounding the base and backstopping the outer perimeter.

"This isn't right," the Spartan muttered. "I have never seen the Covenant use actual camouflage before. Either they are deviating from custom, or they are being ordered to act like this. In any case, we need to tell the Coalition about what we've seen." The Spartan went dead still for a moment. "Radio is still down, but I have an idea. Do you see that large buildingzzzzz/ Standard Covenant prefab. We'll take it, and then I can commandeer their radio to send out a message to Command."

Nodding, Samara squinted, engaging the binoculars built into her helmet. The heavy suit of armor she wore was taking some getting used to, but in a war like this one needed battle armor, not ceremonial garb, and so she had donned the heavier armor the Justicars wore in times of great need. She zoomed in, paying particular attention to the defenders posted outside, counting them. They were mostly Grunts and Jackals, with only a handful of Elites commanding them. None of them were above a Minor in rank, going by the armor.

"Shouldn't there be more Elites present in such an installation?" Samara asked, remembering her briefings, glancing at the Spartan who was calibrating his hybrid rifle for long-range fire.

"When we retook Alluvion, most of the stragglers went into hiding. It might be that they are low on officers, or it's just a minor outpost," the human shrugged. "In any case, we should take it out before we lose another ship."

"I do not see any of their dropships, nor any vehicles we can use," Samara observed. "But this base would have required time and dedicated equipment to build, which means that they have had time to establish themselves here. I am afraid that the Covenant could have fortifications like these lining the mountains of this world, and they are clearly using them to great effect while the Covenant ships keep the fleet occupied. We've lost many ships as well as a great many of our soldiers to positions like these. If we can punch a hole in their air defense network, we'll be able to create an opening for the Coalition."

Samara did not envy those soldiers. Clearing the Covenant from fortified positions was a long and bloody affair, lasting weeks to monthsб depending on the world. Her commando unit had just come back from New Milan after clearing an underground Covenant base that had been launching brutally effective raids upon UNSC forces all over the planet. The new Covenant doctrine was testing the UNSC and the Citadel's special forces greatly. Forced into brutal close quarters engagements, many fell to the Elites. And this was just on the worlds that the Covenant had been invading when the Citadel intervened.

"Samara, is that sword a ceremonial weapon, or can you use it effectively?" the human asked. "From here, I can provide suppression fire while you get in close. On my mark you'll provide a distraction with your biotics, while I infiltrate the main building and use their radio to inform the UNSC of the situation. After that, we group up again and go for the Tyrant. If reinforcements appear, we'll regroup as fast as we can, then steal their transport."

Samara nodded. "Tell me when and I'll give you the distraction."

The human waited for a few seconds, then shouted, "Go!"

As the Spartan opened fire, Samara got to her feet, engaged her biotic amp with a mental command and leapt forward, accelerated into a blinding blue missile of biotic power. She landed amid a pack of grunts, the energy release pulverizing them. She refocused her power into a punch straight into the jaw of their leader, an Elite, breaking his neck and sending him flying, then whirled around, finishing off a wounded Grunt with a burst from her Tempest and slammed her fist into the ground, launching a shockwave into a stack of what had to be supply crates. The Jackals hiding behind it were thrown into the air, only to be hit by the human's precision shots.

A trio of Elites emerged from the base of the gun. In a smooth motion, she holstered the Tempest and drew her Carnifex, firing three warp rounds into the leader; the first one disrupted his shields long enough for the rest to turn his head into blue mist. One of his companions threw a plasma grenade, which Samara promptly threw back at his head with her biotics. He screamed and ripped off his helmet, throwing it - and the grenade attached to it - at Samara. The justicar immediately extended her barriers and bounced the helmet back, and a split second later, it exploded between them.

Burning with bright blue fire, Samara shot forward in a blur of biotic power, charging right through the dissipating plasma, using it as cover. Before the Elite could recover, she beheaded him with her blessed blade in a single biotics-enhanced strike, then hit the surviving alien in the stomach with a fully powered warp-kick, turning his torso into blue paste.

John-117 laid down suppressing fire with his hybrid rifle as he advanced, sending out a steady stream of incendiary rounds fed by the massive metal block at the heart of the weapon. Grunts died as their methane tanks ignited and exploded, their Elite superiors running or rolling around on fire. Having thinned the herd, he switched to disruptor ammo and fired at the floating platforms… or, rather their bases; the electrified rounds disabled the gravity generators, bringing the platforms and their Jackal occupants crashing to the ground. A Grunt supercharged his pistol and fired at John, who swiftly sidestepped the ball of supercharged plasma, with the follow-up normal shots splattering against his kinetic barriers; he barely even felt the heat. John's return fire shredded the culprit.

John had to admit: the MA5/Phaeston Hybrid prototype may have been an ugly unsightly abomination whose mere existence insulted all other weapons made by man, but he appreciated the sheer amount of options the weapon and the upgrades to MJOLNIR gave him. He looked at the top right of his HUD: 98% left of the ammo block, 95% omni-gel left. And he was surrounded by materials he could use to replenish both. He liked this gun, John decided.

Meanwhile, Samara was engaged in a running battle, destroying Covenant equipment and troops with blade, gun, explosives and biotics alike. John was impressed: while he had at first privately dismissed asari and their biotics as nothing special, this one was proving him wrong. He was seeing the epitome of biotic power, and he didn't doubt for a moment that Samara could match him in combat effectiveness. He also idly wondered what her sword was made of; he would ask later, He could think of a few uses for a blade that sharp.

John broke into a run and stormed down the hill, smashing through the thin outer wall of the Covenant base, as he saw a large Covenant force emerge from their barracks and head in Samara's direction. He raked them with automatic fire: the Grunts yipped and screamed as incendiary rounds set them on fire and ignited their breathing gas.

He charged forward, leaping over the dead and dying Covenant and entered the prefab that functioned as the command center.

The enemies of the goddess were paying the price for their crimes against sapient life, Samara thought as she shot a Jackal sniper in the head, knocking him off his floating perch. Her Carnifex overheated, and she holstered it, picking up a fallen Elite's plasma rifle. The weapon looked strange, but felt sturdy in her hands. She took aim at a group of Jackals using a weapons crate as cover, stomped her foot on the ground, throwing the Jackals into the air with a biotic shockwave, and sprayed them with plasma as they floated. The weapon proved just as destructive when used against its former masters.

Thinking quickly, Samara levitated a trio of plasma coils that stood nearby and threw them into the barrel assembly of the Tyrant, followed by a plasma canister. The superheated gas erupted from the breached containers, fusing the metal in place and blocking the barrel, thus rendering the gun useless. She followed up by spraying a squad of Grunts with her Tempest, then biotically launched herself at the survivors, cutting them down with quick strikes of her sword. To cap this off, she pulled two grenades from the bandolier and threw one into a sniper nest each.

She had to fight the urge to enjoy the raw destructive power at her command. This was a mission in the name of the Goddess, and she was here to bring justice to the monstrous Covenant, not to revel in her own deadliness.

Something came at her from the right, something fast and incredibly hairy, swinging a hammer towards her. Reflexively, she concentrated her biotic power into a barrier and was sent flying when the hammer hit her barrier. Samara hit a stack of crates, feeling something inside her break. Her helmet was crumpled, visor cracked to the point of uselessness, so she tore it off in order to clear her field of vision. Standing before her was a hulking hairy humanoid in ornate and heavy golden armor, wielding a massive hammer - a Brute.

The creature was accompanied by six more like it, but unarmored and armed with crude-looking pistols with blades on the end. They had emerged from what Intelligence had called a "Type-29 Shadow Troop Carrier", a large hover transport that could hold a squad of Elites or Brutes.

The creature did not charge immediately... instead it beat its chest and proudly declared in the human tongue, albeit crudely, "I am Gatrinox, Chieftain of the Faithful. Face me, witch! You and me!" The other creatures formed a half circle, beating their chests and chanting in their own language. "I will drive you back to whatever dark hell you crawled out of!" it roared and charged forward far faster than a creature its size had any right to.

Samara pushed herself to her feet, shaking the blood from her sword. The creature wanted a duel? It would get it. She charged as well, closing the gap with her biotics. One hand holding a concentrated ball of biotic might, she thrust her blade towards the creature's chest with the other. The creature swung its hammer, she intercepted the strike with her biotically-empowered off-hand jab, and everything went blue as the two gravitational anomalies collided.

Master Chief ran through the Covenant command center, trying to locate the communications terminal as quickly as he could. He heard a muffled explosion in the distance, but ignored it, assuming it was the Justicar's work. Consulting the mental map he'd built in his head over the years of operations like this, he headed towards where the comm center would most likely be in a prefab of this particular design.

Cutting through the sleeping quarters, he ran across a Grunt in the process of putting on his armor and triple-tapped it. He then swept the room with his hybrid rifle, mowing down half-dressed Grunts reaching for their methane tanks and plasma pistols. The methane tanks exploded, fire washing over him and the surviving Grunts. He was fine thanks to the re-engaged suit seals and overcharged kinetic barriers; the aliens weren't so fortunate Taking a moment to recover, John advanced through the room at a brisk pace, shooting any bodies that still moved. All of this took fourteen seconds.

Exiting into the central corridor, he hung a left and came across the door to the comm center, which was locked as expected, and activated the omni-tool's plasma torch in order to cut through.

However, before he could do that, the door opened suddenly. An Elite in grey armor - most certainly a Spec Ops Elite - barreled through the doorway, shoulder-checking John into the wall behind him with enough force to dent it. The Spartan rolled aside and got to his feet; the enemy being too close to fire, he swung his rifle at the Elite with enough force to kill a grown man in a single strike.

The Spec Ops stepped back, then ignited his energy sword and slashed forward, cutting through the hybrid rifle in one stroke and missing John's hand by millimeters, then thrust at his chest. John could barely sidestep the attack in time as the blade parted the metal of the wall. The Elite pulled the blade out in a smooth motion, leaving a molten gash in the wall as he did so. A split second later, John had to dodge two more strikes, the second cutting a gash across his chestpiece.

John pulled out his pistol and opened fire. The alien's shields flickered, but before John could break through, the Spec Ops reached for his hand and pushed the Magnum upwards, making him shoot into the ceiling. The Elite then proceeded to step inside John's reach and trip him up and attempted to stab him on the way down. Twisting to avoid the energy blade, John stopped the fall with his hands before proceeding to launch himself from the floor, staggering the alien and forcing him down. Drawing his knife, the Spartan thrust at the Spec Ops Elite's throat. However, the knife missed its mark and embedded itself in the Elite's chest as he felt something hot lance into his side - the Elite had stabbed him with an energy dagger mounted on his left hand. John retaliated by ripping his knife out and crushing the offending limb in a single mighty squeeze, disabling the energy dagger. The Elite roared in pain and jabbed John in the throat so hard that he felt it through his armor.

Staggered for a split second by the recoil of his own punch, the Spec Ops then dropped his energy sword and pulled free the plasma pistol hanging from his belt, firing into John's chest from within the protective envelope of his kinetic barriers. Armor ablating and skin blistering, he pushed the plasma pistol aside with his left hand and reached with his right for the Elite's face, using his left mandibles as a handhold of sorts with which to force the alien's head down and pulping them as a side effect. He pulled back his left hand and ignited the omni-blade, ready to deliver a killing blow...

Plasma impacted his barriers: a second Elite had joined the fray, firing his plasma rifle at the Spartan. John, his position becoming increasingly disadvantageous, let go of his quarry and threw himself behind cover, recovering his knife and pistol on the way out. The wounded Elite was trying to flee, but John wasn't about to let that happen. He fired into the Elite's back, breaking the weakened shield and cracking the armor. Before he could finish the alien off, however, the Elite who had intervened threw himself between his wounded comrade and the Spartan, absorbing the next two shots.

The pistol clicked, the magazine empty.

John ducked back into cover, searching for a magazine that hadn't been lost in the melee, while the two Elites retreated, pouring suppressing fire down the corridor. Fishing a spare magazine from a pouch, he noted that the wound in his side had been torn open by the exertion. He really wanted some biofoam right about now, but the biofoam container, unfortunately, didn't survive his impromptu orbital drop. Hearing the door slam shut; John stood up, reloading his pistol and moving for the doorway, only to see the door heating up and glowing at the seams. The Elites were welding the door shut with their plasma rifles, evidently trying to box him in. It was time to get what he came for and leave before Covenant reinforcements arrived.

Entering the comm center, John-117 headed towards the communications console and searched for the button he knew would start a broadcast on all channels. The Covenant already knew he was here, so he didn't have much to lose by broadcasting in the clear, and he had little time. He opened a channel and began to beat a signal in Morse code on a nearby table.

"_UNSC forces stranded behind enemy lines. Using enemy COM.. Requesting evac."_

Before he could add anything else, the power cut out. Not seeing any point to remaining here, he set out to regroup with Samara. He sprinted towards the other exit and shoulder-checked the door. Fortunately, it was lighter, and it hadn't been welded shut yet, which meant that he crashed through without issue, flattening a Jackal in the process. Before its compatriot could react, John lashed out with a fist, crushing the creature's trachea. Picking up its carbine, the Spartan shot both Jackals in the head for good measure, then continued through the doorway.

Samara went flying, slamming into a prefab. The Brute was launched back as well, his body slamming into the troop carrier with enough force to actually push it back. Somehow still alive and not daunted in the slightest, he just got to his feet and charged the Justicar again, holding his hammer high. In response, Samara pulled out her Tempest and fired into the Brute's chest at full auto. His shields absorbed thirty shots before collapsing. She pulled back her hand and launched a biotic bolt at the Brute, but this merely staggered him. Still, she used this opportunity to stand up and fire at the Brute's right leg, and just before her gun overheated the armor gave way and the beast went down on one knee.

Samara charged forward, channeling a mass effect field through her sword to cut the haft of the hammer in half, then threw an uppercut, her left arm surrounded by rapidly shifting mass effect fields, to a catastrophic effect. As the now-headless Brute chieftain slumped, Samara turned to face his unarmored underlings, drawing her Disciple shotgun.

Suddenly her human companion burst through the wall of the Covenant command center and opened fire at the Brutes, going for headshots and In response they roared and returned fire, their weapons launching large superheated metal spikes at the human; in doing so, they ignored Samara. With three Brutes down and another wounded, the Justicar gathered her strength and opened fire with her shotgun, triple-tapping one of the Brutes, then shooting a second in the stomach just as the Spartan shifted his aim and finished it.

The battlefield went quiet. The armored human walked up to her, offering a hand to pull her back onto her feet. Favoring her left side, the justicar called up a medical program on her omni-tool; according to the diagnostics readout, she had suffered some internal bleeding as well as two broken ribs.

The human glanced up at the Tyrant's mangled barrel assembly just as the overstressed construction broke off.

"Well done, Justicar," he said after a few seconds, glancing at the transport the Brutes had arrived in. "Not a dropship, but it will do. Get into the cargo compartment. There should be a blue box built into the wall - a first aid kit. Inside you'll find tubes filled with what looks like a gel. Put it in your wound to disinfect and close it up. It will hurt worse than a plasma burn, but it's better than nothing. Before you ask, it works on any species - we've checked."

Samara nodded and did as the human said; she noted that he also took another tube for himself and slathered some of the gel in a blackened gash on his side. They still had a long way to go before they reached friendly lines, but at least they would remain combat-effective, and they now had transport and supplies.


	41. Chapter 41

**1657 hours, September 16th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
Akseli Memorial Hospital, Bhaakto City, Equatorial Plains Province, Alluvion**

"Someone give me a SITREP!" General Pallonis of the 13th Palaven Legion barked as the basement turned command center shook. The Covenant armor and artillery in the southern districts were shelling the city center with everything they had, forcing the defenders to dig in deep in the ruined city.. Whole buildings were melting around them. The bombardment had to have severed a power line somewhere, as lights sputtered and the holotable, which Pallonis' ad hoc staff used to stay apprised of the situation, died.

It had all been so simple after New Ghent. Pallonis had led the 13th Palaven in several operations in the human Inner Colonies so far; five worlds had been cleared of Covenant thanks to their assistance. Each of those operations, while bloody, had been a success, but the battle for Alluvion was quickly turning into a vicious meat grinder.

The Coalition had been in control of Alluvion for just under a month, and had been in the process of evacuating its civilian population to the UNSC inner colonies. The 101st ODST Regiment and 13th Palaven Legion had been moving to the Bhaakto City Spaceport where they would board the transports that would take them into orbit and then to a new battle elsewhere, while the three million men of the 6th Scatha Legion would take over the garrison duties. To help them with that, the UNSC had deployed the 12th Marine Regiment, an assortment of other units and a small battlefleet that would use Alluvion as a base of operations. The warships took position in orbit while the transports and dropships ferried the troops to the planet below. In normal situations, there would have been traffic jams as civilian evacuation efforts and military landings jossled for priorities. But Alluvion had barely had any human civilian left by the time the Coalition arrived. All that remained was the remaining civilian population of the capital city, and a handful of remote towns. Then, just as the first wave of dropships was about to land and the second was launching, the Covenant attacked

The timing had been suspiciously perfect, down to a second: just as the slipspace listening post in the system shut down for a few minutes to perform scheduled maintenance, the Covenant moved in. Their assault carrier had jumped into orbit, weapons hot, and immediately launched fighters, dropships and drop pods, ignoring the warships in favor of the transport fleet and its attendant shuttles. Covenant strike craft, pulse lasers and plasma torpedoes killed over a million turian soldiers still in transit or already on final approach - mostly the former. It was a disaster, to say the least.

Things down on the ground hadn't been any easier. Almost simultaneously, the Covenant staged simultaneous attacks against various strategic locations on the planet. Going by scattered reports, those ranged from plasma and antimatter bombs levelling entire city blocks (and more often than not one facility or another) to raids against the outlying outposts by the Covenant special forces. Unlike normal Covenant attacks, they focused on military targets, not the remaining shelters containing the remaining civilians. He'd already lost quite a few officers, including two colonels, to such attacks. Some units reported heavy casualties; some went dark entirely.

And, of course, the Covenant drop pods had hit all over the city's southern ward. Despite heavy resistance by the Coalition forces deployed there, the Covenant advance force was working to secure a foothold while the remnants of the previous occupation force, smelling blood, surged from the hills.

He wished Major Leonard Ross was here; he'd had quite a good working relationship with the human But the Major and the surviving Marines from New Ghent had been recalled back to UNSC space to undergo retraining as ODSTs, in light of their exemplary performance. He'd just have to work with the Colonel of the 101st.

Or he would, if Colonel Williams wasn't leading from the front in accordance with some ODST custom he cited that dictated all officers command from the front. This wouldn't have been a problem, if not for the Covenant suddenly showing an unknown propensity for EWAR. The enemy had smuggled portable jammers into the city, significantly hampering communications between the turian and human forces. His technicians were working around the clock to compensate for this, while the Armigers and Cabal ran around hunting for the jammers. For now, he was using messenger drones, hardlines, and even runners.

"The second wave of Covenant dropships is landing around the capital, with a single massive cluster to the south. 101st ODST is currently contesting the primary enemy LZ alongside the remnants of the 81st UNSC Army Armored Regiment. The 1st Armored Brigade of the 13th Legion is moving to assist." Senior Lieutenant Gila Setina, a communications officer recently transferred from Admiral Karandis' command to assist in ground operations, reported. She was frantically at work at her station. A hot-tempered yet focused turian with an eye on promotions and growth, she'd worked hard; Karandis would be recommending her for advanced officer training soon. "Fleet is scrambling all fighters to provide cover to our forces. 6th Scatha units on the ground have regrouped and are moving to aid 101st ODST by attacking the Covenant landing site from the west. Surviving dropships are heading to land in the city itself." She paused. "The comm buoy has been destroyed before we could confirm if Command received our distress signal."

"Keep our birds in the air and have them do whatever they can to disrupt the landing!" the general ordered; he activated his omni-tool and tried to get the holo-table to work. After sputtering for a few seconds, it lit up.

The city was being mapped by swarms of recon and tactical drones to provide a real-time feed of the battle. Due to Covenant jamming, the drones were daisy-chaining their messages, leading to some delay, but it was within acceptable parameters. Until the Cabal could find and destroy the hidden jammers, it would have to do.

A human 440 mm artillery battery in the northern ward was shelling the Covenant landing zone, wiping out whole columns of disembarking troops and wrecking armor, while turian artillery and UNSC missile batteries were firing non-stop at the targets being called in by forces on the field. Meanwhile, the pockets of Coalition troops stranded in the southern part of the city were mired in brutal urban combat as they fought their way back to the main Coalition force. As this was happening, Jiris IFVs were launching coordinated missile volleys at the Covenant dropships and fighters, taking out dozens of aircraft with each volley. Automated anti-air turrets placed across the rooftops opened fire at every Covenant target in range, lighting up the sky with tracer fire, missile contrails and lasers.

It was raining corpses across the city.

The Covenant's strategy was starting to become apparent. Bhaakto City was split into two parts: a suburb to the south, across the Ellana river, and a heavily industrialized north. Pallonis could not determine why they had landed south of the river, although that could be because it was the widest open area that was still close enough for even the Wraiths to provide fire support. The Covenant were forcing their way up the main roads from the southern part of the city, towards the bridges that crossed the Ellana river and allowed access to the city center. They weren't doing the usual tactic of a wide advance across the whole front. Instead they had concentrated their forces into a heavy spearhead that ground Bhaakto City down before it, while sending skirmishing forces to find weaknesses.

The rest of the Covenant forces that had landed turned out to primarily be Jackals and Elites, moving up in smaller groups that operated independently, searching for ways into the city, softening up defensive positions and going after targets of opportunity. More than one outpost reported cloaked Elites after successfully fending off an attack before going silent.

_The Covenant was adapting to the Coalition._ The revelation was chilling. They used their plasma mortars and air superiority to level the city in advance of the main ground assault and force the defenders to hunker down, then concentrated their best forces and forced the Coalition troops into close-quarters battle where the superior Elite heavy infantry could force their way through the defensive lines. As they did this, they sent skirmishing forces along the city's edges, looking for ways inside and providing a diversion. Any defensive force that put up a fight was systematically targeted by Special Ops elites… that is, if they didn't decide to call in artillery instead.

"I want constant updates on the progress of the Covenant landings, and their troop movements. We need to contest them before they get established. The 6th Scatha are to regroup, move up to the northern bank of the Ellana river and prepare to hold it against Covenant crossings. Send out search and rescue teams to link up with forces that are under jamming. Have the engineers demolish buildings to block enemy approach and lines of sight and force the enemy into killing zones. Have they mined the bridges and train tunnels?" As an officer nodded an affirmative, the turian general continued. "Good. Set the-"

Unmistakable sounds of plasma rifle fire, interspersed with report of mass accelerators, echoed through the room, cutting him off.

"Raid!" a turian voice yelled over the intercom. "Elite clo-" the scream was cut off by the sizzle of an energy sword slicing through flesh. The line went dead.

The command center immediately sprung into crisis mode. The human officers produced pistols and submachine guns, activating their barrier generator belts, while the turian officers put on their helmets and prepared their weapons - a mixture of rifles, shotguns and heavy pistols.  
The door to the command center was slammed shut, locked with reinforced bars and barricaded with cabinets. Tables were kicked over and portable barrier generators were set up. Covenant Special Forces raids on command centers were something Coalition officers had grown to fear greatly. They were rare due to heavy protection detail major command nodes were usually assigned, but when they happened, few lived to tell the tale.

Standard procedure was for the Command Center to go under lockdown and prepare to defend themselves. The forces guarding the base would either fend off the raid or buy enough time for the officers to prepare defenses and destroy vital data.

"I'm encrypting the data and syncing the kill-programs to our heartbeats!" Setina yelled as she frantically entered several commands into her omni-tool, then moved the foldup computer off the table she was using and kicked the table over to provide some cover.

In the event most of the officers died, every hard drive would instantly wipe itself, and then the power governor would overload the electronics, burning them out. It was a precaution born out of experience gained back during the Krogan Rebellions.

From outside the door he could hear screaming, yelling, the sound of sizzling energy blades cutting through flesh and the resounding staccato of firearms, followed by thumps of mass accelerator rounds impacting concrete.

Then the door began to glow at the seams; the Covenant strike team was cutting their way in.

Pallonis' grip tightened on his Phaeston rifle. He had gone through his monthly marksmanship exams and did his hand to hand drills, but he hadn't fought on the front lines in over a decade; he had no illusions about his odds. So, he made peace with his life and prepared for what was to come, an unspoken battle cry on his lips. He would make his death count for something.

The door was kicked open, and the defenders opened fire. But there was nothing there, just an empty door. Pallonis immediately realized what would happen next.

"Prepare for fla-" He yelled, only to see a pair of grenades bounce around the corner into the room. He hit the deck. Then the grenades went off, blinding the defenders with a powerful flash of light. Some fell, covering their blinded eyes, as unshielded electronics were overloaded by the accompanying electromagnetic pulse and optics shut down to compensate for the flash.

Pallonis' helmet went dark as well; he couldn't see anything, but he heard plasma grenades going off and energy blades striking flesh and metal. He screamed at the top of his lungs and fired on full auto at where he remembered the doorway was, hoping it could buy him some time. Seconds stretched into eternity as he expected a killing blow to land on him. He heard plasma whizzing around him, people screaming, the slashing of energy swords.

A few impossibly long moments later - later, going through mission recorder data, Pallonis would discover that only five seconds had passed since the flash - the helmet's microcameras rebooted and he saw a charnel house.

An Elite with two energy swords had leapt into the room. Moving like water flowing across freshly cut stone, the alien slashed through the guards facing the doorway with quick precise strikes, sidestepping omni-blade thrusts and sending a defender flying with a kick that instantly shattered the human's neck.

Another Elite followed, wielding a plasma rifle in each hand and moving with fluid grace of an Asari dancer. He fired each rifle at a different target, each shot expertly aimed, going after the more lightly armed human officers, with the odd shots fired at the armored turian officers being long, precise bursts from both rifles at the same time. Once the barriers collapsed, plasma bolts blew off limbs, flashed blood to steam and boiled turians alive inside their armor. The commander center was filled with frantic gunfire and the screams of the dying.

The human officers and guards in the room had taken the worst of it, as the intruders singled them out and used their superior strength, speed and reach to dismantle the defenders in close quarters and evade return fire. Another plasma grenade flew in, landing near the server stacks the humans were using as cover. Some brave - or, perhaps, dazed - aide rolled out of cover, picked up the laptop the grenade was stuck to and made to throw it back even as others around him frantically scrambled for new cover. The grenade blew up in his hands, burning him and those around him that weren't fast enough to crisp.

Meanwhile, Pallonis managed to land a few hits on the first Elite. His target turned around, noticed Pallonis firing at him and rushed in, dodging many of Pallonis' frantic shots and crossing his energy swords to shield himself from the rest.. The bullets were flash-vaporized on impact. The general felt fear grip his heart: he didn't know the Elites could do that. Time slowed as the Elite closed in, blades raised for a killing blow as the Phaeston overheated and vented steam...

The unmistakable report of a human shotgun thundered from his left as the Elite staggered, his shield collapsing. The elite turned his head just as another slug hit, wrecking his helmet and breaking his momentum. Pallonis turned his head to the left and saw his savior: an ODST was standing behind the now-wrecked holotable. He pumped his shotgun and fired again, this time smashing the Elite's shoulder and staggering him even more. Roaring in pain and anger, the beast used the momentum to pivot slightly and _throw _his off-hand weapon at the ODST. The latter dove sideways, and the plasma blade merely severed his arm at the shoulder instead of his head.

Unfortunately for the Elite, the ODST distracted him for a few crucial seconds. Desperation lending him strength, Pallonis sprung to his feet, activating the Phaeston's bayonet, and thrust the flash-forged blade in the attacker's throat. The creature gurgled and sagged, both energy swords burning themselves out.

"This is for Madrigal, hinge-head," the ODST spat, getting to his feet with the help of his remaining arm before drawing a pistol.

At this moment, the third Elite entered the fray, this one wielding one of the fearsome Covenant needle rifles, and opened fire, two shots taking out a turian guard's barriers and the third penetrating his helmet and blowing up inside. One of the human aides picked up the fallen turian's rifle and returned fire, only for a needle to dig into his torso and blow him apart.

The ODST who had saved Pallonis opened fire with a Magnum in his left hand, taking down the shields of the rifle-wielding Spec Ops Elite with half a magazine of explosive rounds. The alien returned fire, the first two needles collapsing the ODST's barriers and the third one lodging itself in the trooper's armor before exploding and tearing a hole in his abdomen. The distraction cost the Elite as the others concentrated their fire; with his shields disabled, he went down in seconds.

The surviving Elite turned to retreat, somehow almost running backward as he fired his twin plasma rifles, as the defenders' return fire chased him and the first responders burst through the other entrance He holstered one of the rifles and threw a plasma grenade into the room as he dove through the door. It landed right in front of Pallonis. Even as he made to jump to safety, the rational part of his mind pointed out that he would never leave the blast radius in time and that even kinetic barriers wouldn't be of much help this close.

However, the end never came as the wounded one-armed ODST's leapt forward, trailing intestines, shoved the general out of the way with his sole arm and threw himself on top of the grenade. He screamed "For Madrigal!" as the plasma consumed him. The ODST's barriers and body absorbed much of the blast's energy; some heat still bled through, but it was survivable, only scorching the surface of Pallonis's armor. When the flash faded, there was naught but ash.

Pallonis was stunned for a moment by the sacrifice, but quickly resolved to make it count. He got to his feet and turned to look at what was left of the command center. Most of the equipment was ruined, and the ground was littered with bodies. Humans and turians lay dead or dying on the ground - two thirds of his staff, gone in less than a minute. Even as ODSTs streamed in and secured the area, he quickly roused the survivors to action.

"Call in the engineers and medics immediately. Whoever can walk, salvage what equipment you can, destroy what you can't and help the critically wounded. After that, report back to me. We are heading for the secondary command post."


	42. Chapter 42

**1800 hours, September 20th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
Herald of Abundance, Covenant fringe territory.**

Vado awoke inside his stasis capsule. Unlike the more primitive human cryogenic capsules, Covenant stasis was a curious mixture of light cryogenic storage and time-stasis technology. He opened the hatch on the capsule and stepped outside wearing his full suit of yellow Shipmaster's armor. He looked around and saw the date. He had been in stasis for just over sixteen cycles. That meant it was time to rotate the guards. It was considered bad form to spend more than four sixteen cycles in stasis, without leaving for a single day for the sake of prayer and meditation.

The other pods began opening, the Rangers stepping out of their pods, observing their surroundings. One offered Vado a salute, and the shipmaster returned it. The Rangers filed out and began about their duties. The leaders of the Rangers was a Duru' Griotee. An amicable Ranger, from a Keep on a remote colony world. One that hadn't even earned an official name. He'd made his position by providing Discovery with a remote location to test equipment.

The Ranger Major moved over, his grey armor marked with a single red shoulder pad to mark his status. "All systems operational while you slumbered, Shipmaster." He crossed his arms before his chest, tapping it three times. One for faith, one for service, one for honor. Or one for the trinity of gods, if he followed that particular faith.

"Excellent. Feast in the hall, and reward all who remained awake with a glass of wine, or an infusion tablet. Their choice."

The Major nodded and began moving towards the feasting hall, with Vado following.

The intercom activated, and a soft voice as smooth as velvet spoke across it. "Shipmaster, Vellana here. Helium is getting excited about something, but I can not say what it is yet. But I felt you should know."

"Understood."

Vado entered the feasting hall, seeing the awakening crew sitting down on ceremonial rugs, each with a bowl of warm stew, and a canteen of water.

The Rangers talked amicably with each other, boasting of conquests, both flesh and martial, sharing stories of conflicts on their homeworld, or of wooing maidens with great deeds of valor. One shared a particularly lurid tale about being the only male in a Keep after a disastrous war, and being sent away, if only to prevent inbreeding.

Duru was sharing pictures of his son, freshly initiated into the warrior creche of his world. The photo showed a young Sangheili boy, barely of age, holding a large chunk of bone over his head. "When I left, my youngest son returned from a hunt for a great Kraken. On my homeworld, all children who came of age in the same solar cycle head out on longships to hunt a mighty beast. They must return with a piece of bone, that they give to their father, to mark them as full adults." Duru reached for a necklace, showing twenty such bones, and grinned. "It is a good thing indeed to be the only warrior in a keep. Hah!" He slammed a fist down on the ground, the other Sangheili around him, raising fists and thumping their chests.

"Your world lets sons know their fathers?" The Evocatus asked, moving over next to the rangers and sitting down. Vado was sure that the Ultra would finally remove his helmet, only for him to merely detach the bottom portion of it, and begin eating the stew. "Isn't that a breeding ground for Nepotism? On Sanghelios, we are raised in common rooms and never know our fathers. We are all raised equal."

Duru shook his head. "We're a small world. Such a system is unfeasible for now. We might adopt it someday. But for now, I believe it works well enough. Do you have children, Evocatus?"

"I have fathered many with the women of my keep. But I know none of my children."

Vado moved to the gallery and took a bowl of soup from the Ranger standing in the kitchen. A proper field cook was a real asset to any Sangheili force, and as respected as any leader. Although, not officially. He took a bowl and nodded in respect to the Sangheili, who was still in full ranger armor, albeit armed with spoon and cooking pot.

Yapyap and Sek were both playing cards with each other, with a curious Ranger joining in, looking mighty confused at what he was doing. They were gambling over what looked like infusion tablets, Vado noted. Evidently these Rangers didn't look down on recreation in such a way.

Vado sat down and put the bowl before him, but just before he could dig in, his helmet chimed. He was receiving a message. He put his helmet back on, a message projected onto his retina.

"Come to the bridge. We found something -Vellana." He'd have to remind Vellana of proper signaling etiquette at some point.

He checked to see if nobody was looking, then held back his head and poured the soup down his throat in one massive gulp, then quickly went to the bridge. Nobody deprives Vado of his breakfast, not even a San'Shyuum.

When he reached the bridge, Vellana and Helium were both looking over a large holographic image of a nearby gas giant. There was a sizeable glowing dot, marked with the forerunner glyph for "Unknown." Vado walked up to look at what they had found, but could not discern anything. "Why did you call for me?"

Vellana tapped in some runes, zooming in on the object around the gas giant. "We found a ship adrift in the gas giant of the system."

"What kind of ship are we dealing with?" Vado asked.

"Unknown. Its design pattern does not match any known ships. We might be dealing with a new species. It is small, however, barely any bigger than our own."

"Excellent!" Vado exclaimed, slamming a fist into an open palm. "More adherents for the faith. Tell me more."

Vellana paused, looking at Helium as the Huragok made a series of gestures and high-pressure whistles. The prelate nodded at each movement, craning her head, and making hand signals back. After a short but frantic conversation, she turned to Vado. "Unknown, but it uses technology akin to what the Citadel uses. Shall we place a beacon, and inform Discovery. Or do you want to examine it?"

"You disturbed my breakfast. Let us see what this ship has to hide." Vado said.

-  
**Ten minutes later.**

With the herald moved into docking range, it was time to examine what they had found. Vado stepped out into the airlock, followed by Vellana, Sek, Yapyap, the Ultra, and the Rangers who had just woken up from their stasis capsules. Duru and the others were at the ready but remained aboard the Herald.

"Clear the airlock," Vado said.

There was a sharp hiss, and the outer airlock opened. Vado hopped out into the black void of space, his thruster pack propelling him closer to the unknown ship. Its design looked organic, but its construction was, without a doubt, metallic. This design intrigued him, for reasons he couldn't quite find out. He hovered close to the hull, moving towards what looked like an airlock.

"Bring in the entry kit." He said over his radio, motioning for the Rangers.

One of the Rangers was carrying a sizeable metallic case, which he opened and took a large piece of blue plastic from it. Upon removal from the case, the plastic immediately unfolded into an emergency airlock, which the rangers began moving into place against the existing airlock of the ship.

One of the rangers examined the magnetic seals of the airlock, then applied adhesive paste to secure the connection. After checking the seal and giving a hand signal, one of the rangers opened a panel on the side of the emergency airlock, and attached oxygen tanks to it. After checking the seal, the Ranger opened the valves on each container. Vado opened the airlock and floated inside. He was followed by everyone, except for two rangers that guarded the entrance. The ship did not have artificial gravity, which could make exploration more difficult.

The door closed behind them, and the air began to equalize.

Vado took a fusion torch offered to him by a Ranger and began cutting the existing airlock open. Two rangers grabbed his legs with one hand, then a handhold with the other, so he wouldn't be pushed away by his tool. He drew a perfect circle, as he'd learned in his calligraphy classes as a young child, then pushed onto the metal. There was a brief rush of air as the atmospheres equalized.

Vado's helmet lights activated, and he floated through the hole he had created, moving the former airlock out of the way and into a position they could always retrieve it so they could re-seal the ship.

The first thing he saw was bodies. There had to be hundreds of mummified skeletons of some insectoid race, all having collapsed in positions of what looked like peace? None of the corpses seemed to be fighting or trying to do something about their lack of air. They all looked at peace with their state.

Vado didn't know whether to respect or be disgusted by such actions. Either respectfully accepting the end, or refusing to fight to the bitter end. He put it aside as he moved through the ship, looking for anything worth his time.

"Sek. Find something worth salvaging." Vado ordered.

"On it, boss!" The T'vaoan said and hovered past, his pressure suit's thruster pack letting him move with ease through the ship. The needle-rifle in his hands was scoping out the area. Vado made hand signals to order two of the Rangers to follow.

"Rangers, Yapyap, guard the entrance. Evocatus, Vellana, with me. I want to see if there is anything out of the ordinary about this ship."

Vellana nodded, lighting her energy lance and moving forward, her gravity belt and thruster pack, as well as augmented brain, letting her move through zero-gravity as if she had been born in it. Then again, many San'Shyuum -were- born in Zero-G to relieve pressure upon the mothers.

The Ultra merely grunted in annoyance and moved ahead.

As they moved through the ship, they continued to pass through the same sights they had seen before — mummified remains and decaying electronics. Vado did not care particularly about the bodies but felt he should complete at least a routine examination of the ship.

They entered the cargo hold, but unlike the rest of the ship, this one was devoid of bodies. All that the chamber contained was a single large cylindrical storage device. Vado leaped down into the cargo bay and moved towards the container. Vellana and the Evocatus followed. He hovered close to the container, and rubbed some dust from it, noting it was see-through. Inside there was a large egg, surrounded by a shimmering blue field.

He looked over his shoulder at Vellana, who leaned forward to watch as well. Her body language was changing to match her surprise. She activated the hard light sleeve on her right arm, and examined the pod. "Power supply will last another century. Life signs strong. Fully vacuum sealed. Whoever made this had exceptional engineering."

"Prelate. Which Covenant law would apply to this situation? I am inclined to report this to Discovery. But this is a new species. Who do we inform?"

Vellana thought it over for a second. "All new species are to be reported to the Ministry of Conversion without exception. Failure to do so is punishable by castration to full removal of the degenerate bloodline." She paused for a moment. "We should mark this location, and inform Discovery. He can put this through to the proper ecclesiastical authorities."

Vado nodded. "I defer to your expertise. Plant a beacon, and report this to Discovery. He will know what to do. Then we'll continue on our way."

He put a hand on the side of the container. "May your slumber be sweet, young one. Your salvation has arrived." He told the egg.

-

**1830 hours  
Covenant Sector FA-1562-IT-S Supercarrier Sublime Transcendance.**

Another patrol.

Fleet Admiral Xytan 'Jar Wattinree stood on the bridge of his ship, arms crossed behind his back. A skeleton crew was at their stations, working to keep the Supercarrier _Sublime Transcendence _operation. The city-sized ship took constant, careful adjustments to stay operation, with everything from sanitation to the food supply requiring as much maintenance as an entire CCS-class Battlecruiser. _Sublime Transcendenc_e had tribes of Unggoy who had never been beyond their section of the ship, all living in the same part their tribes bred. He had enough Huragok aboard his ship to supply a ship, and the Transcendence still needed constant maintenance.

He had been the greatest Sangheili Admiral in a thousand years, crushing a dozen warlords within his first decade of service, and bringing the northern fringes of the Covenant Empire to heel. He'd broken the Yonhet and brought them into the Covenant by force when they refused to acknowledge the faith. A rebellions crushed merely at the prospect of his arrival. With energy sword and plasma pistol, he'd personally slain a rogue Yanme'e queen that had attempted to launch a rebellion in the Southern parts of the Covenant Empire, using twisted hybrid abominations of Yanme'e and thinking machines.

And he was patrolling for pirates.

Xytan's rage burned in his chest. His assignment to the frontiers was an exile, nothing less. His crime had been his success, his faith in the gods, and the love and devotion the Sangheili gave him. The Hierarchs had felt threatened by him, and they had cast him out to the frontiers. Too afraid to make him an Arbiter like other Sangheili before him.

They were right to fear him. If anyone had attempted to make Xytan an arbiter, they would not have lived to tell the tale.

Xytan knew much of the Covenant and the Sangheili. He knew the secrets that were only spoken of in hushed whispers by the sages of the remotest keeps of Sanghelios. Where they spoke openly of the origin of their race, and the war with the San'Shyuum. How what was once heresy -the dismantling of forerunner artifacts for study- became accepted practice when the Sangheili signed the Writ of Union. Knowledge of this event was only known to scholars that risked their lives to record this history — and known to only a few. But Xytan had known when his uncle had told him the secret tales.

There was a sickness in the Covenant, Xytan thought to himself, one he sometimes wondered if he was the only one to see it. The only one who knew of its true extent. He knew how the Sangheili had had their greatness stripped from them. -They- should be the dominant people of the galaxy — not a Covenant of priests and bureaucrats, but one of the skilled warriors that made it possible.

But he knew better than to speak those words. He had to be careful not to give the Hierarchs an excuse to move against him.

Word had already filtered into his fleet about this "Citadel Council" and how they had allied with the humans. Of the crushing defeats suffered by the Covenant. How the Ministries had been ordered by the Hierarchs to disperse and guard the frontiers, with Sangheili asked to raise larger defensive forces.

It was disgraceful. The full force of the Covenant should have marched to face the humans and their new allies in combat, not wait for the enemy to strike first. It was just more of the machinations of Truth and that blind old fool Mercy. At least Regret had martial spirit and carried a sidearm. Xytan had once seen Regret gun down a San'shyuum acolyte for misspelling a forerunner glyph. At least one Hierarch had some martial spirit.

He waited for the call to action, to be asked to lead his fleet.

The Combined Fleet of Righteous Purpose was an anachronism. It was a fleet dedicated purely to border defense and pirate raiding, but not part of the Ministry of Resolution, the one devoted to anti-piracy efforts.

No, the Combined Fleet of Righteous Purpose was a glorified penal colony. A place where the highest-ranking Sangheili would be assigned if they started asking too many questions. One that the Prophets could easily pick from for Arbiter candidates if need be.

The thought made his mandibles bristle with rage. He was a true believer in the faith of the gods. But he'd lived far too long, and seen far too much corruption ever to believe all the San'Shyuum had the best intentions for the Covenant, let alone the Sangheili. One day this would come to heed, and he would be ready for it.

The metallic frame that forced his back to always be in a stiff upright pose was starting to become uncomfortable, even if he did not show it. His status as the demigod like Imperial Admiral was primarily his own making. Careful choice of dress, posture, and wearing platform soles that made him just a tiny bit bigger than he usually was. He was the Imperial Admiral, the paradigm of all things Sangheili, and he carefully cultivated this view. He often wouldn't require such things, but even a moment of laxity could break the facade.

The Gauntlet on Xytan's left arm carefully times sonic-frequency to his inner ear, so only he would hear the message.

_"Seven"_

Xytan's armor was the most exceptional Sangheili harness in the Covenant, covered in purest silver, and engraved with Forerunner glyphs of myriad meanings, all of which told the story of his life when read in the right order. It was inlaid with solid gold, molten down from the heathen statues of a dozen fringe-world faiths that had been declared heretical. It was not his ceremonial dress, but it suited him for when he commanded his Supercarrier. For important meetings, he had beautiful robes, solid golden armor inlaid with a thousand gemstones, and helmet large enough that it could function as a throne for a Jackal although Xytan would skin any Jackal who even joked about such a thing.

Not seeing anything that required his attention, Xytan walked off the bridge and headed to his room.

It was a small ascetic room, with a single bed large enough for his massive frame, a desk, and a rack that could contain two dozen high-capacity datapads.

It was also the heart of a widespread network of spies and inquisitors, one that permeated most levels of Covenant society. His way of keeping tabs on the Covenant as a whole. He grabbed the third panel on the fourth row, and activated it, placing his thumb on the hidden scanner.

It was a message from his agent aboard the Fleet of Particular Justice. The fleet the one engaged with the Humans, and their new allies.

_"Truth is lying about the humans and their allies. They are supremely formidable, and a real threat. Truth knows and is sabotaging the war effort."_ There was a pause of one cycle before another message. _"Truth is ordering more high-risk attacks upon human targets. Several generals dead. Nobody is asking questions. Anyone who does so sent on a suicide mission. There is grumbling in private about the war."_

Xytan thought it over.

Something was going on, something of which he could not find the source. But it was starting to grate slowly at the Imperial Admiral. His bond was to the Covenant, yes. But not to the San'Shyuum. And certainly not to those who'd cast him out on penal duty.

He replied, sending a message that would be passed around between agents and intermediaries before being sent on its way. Xytan had spent too long preparing his network of agents for this._ "Monthly pings. Bi-monthly updates. Blood of your ancestors be with you."_

He leaned back into his chair, thinking over the progress he had made so far. Everything so far had been built towards one goal. His agents in most major fleets, the way he'd carefully cultivated an image, a network of friends and allies throughout the San'shyuum and Sangheili hierarchy, they were all in preparation for what was to come. Something was going to happen to the Covenant. He could feel it in his bones. Many Sangheili did, although few states so out loud. Centuries of political influence, red tape, and bureaucracy were all starting to pile up. He was worried a new age of strife was inevitable. But when it did, he would be ready.


	43. Chapter 43

In his cabin, guarded by two of his finest Sangheili guards, Xytan lay down to rest. And as he did, he dreamed about the day he wanted nothing more than to forget.

_In his dreams, he was back on that accursed world._

-

_A hundred wraith tanks moved into position, pre-sighting their plasma mortars as the enemy approached. Three massive Scarabs walked moved into position, slamming their legs into the ground to secure themselves. Plasma beams charging up._

_Ten thousand Sangheili warriors had arrived upon the planet, disembarking from dropships and preparing their weapons. They had come to destroy a Yanme'e hive that refused to submit to the Covenant, and had killed the envoys of the Tithe fleets. Such rebellion was punishable only by death._

_Atop a hill overlooking his army stood the Fleetmaster who had come to the surface to destroy this rebellion personally. This would be the twentieth uprising he'd crushed, and he was eager to do so again._

_Xytan magnified the view of his binoculars, scouting out the location of the Yanme'e queen, Brings-True-Dominion. A Heretical Yanme'e accused of fermenting rebellion, and organizing an uprising against the Covenant._

_But what they faced that day wasn't Yanme'e anymore. But something else. Some sort of aberrations. Mixtures of life and machine, guided by a horrifying intelligence of alien making._

_Out of the mountain swarmed a tide that seemed dense enough to swallow the stars. Sickly green chitin mixed with glowing blue cybernetics. Terrifying creatures that ranged from small drones that oozed with open wounds, to horrific tank-sized monstrosities that looked like they had been stitched together from dozens of smaller Yanme'e._

_"Fleetmaster?" The Major next to him asked, visibly shaken by the horrors before him._

_"The heretic queen has broken the most sacred of laws. She fields an army of hybrids of Yanme'e and machine intelligence; such an atrocity can not be tolerated any longer!" Xytan bellowed, a shock going through the assembled Sangheili. "Draw your blades and prepare for what is to come. This will be the most important battle of our lives!"_

_A mighty battle cry went through the assembled Sangheili, as energy blades were lit in anticipation of the bloodshed to come._

_The Scarabs opened fire, massive plasma beams cutting through thousands of the oncoming hybrids, destroying them with cleansing waves of plasma._

_The Wraith mortars opened up, blasting holes into the oncoming swarm, but each hole the plasma orbs made was quickly filled by more of the hellspawn that came at them._

_The Sangheili opened fire, ten thousand plasma weapons opening fire at once across the line, breaking the charge with the sheer weight of their impacts. The first wave of Yanme'e hybrids melted under the plasma impacts, forming a barricade for the next wave, which was forced to climb over their dead. A wall of broken chitin, molten cybernetic, and seared flesh was all that remained of the front row of Yanme'e, with the second wave quickly sharing the same fate._

_Then the plasma weapons overheated to vent their heat._

_The Yanme'e surged again, this time closing the distance further. The lighter hybrids among them taking flight, those whose cybernetics did not weigh them down. They flew in fast and slow, firing internally mounted plasma weapons at the defenders. The leading ranks prepared energy swords as the Yanme'e fliers impacted amongst them, roaring as they entered the fray._

_Xytan could see no end to the unholy host approaching them. It reminded him of the ancient stories that told of the dreaded parasite of old. His army would not survive. They were ready to kill a hive of Yanme'e, but not such a horror as what approached them now. Hybrids that should have taken mortal blows merely stood back up and resumed their attacks, while massive amalgamated atrocities charged into the fray._

_He saw a Zealot slay one of the brutes in single combat, but be swarmed by lesses creatures after his moment of triumph had concluded._

_Realizing that the battle was lost, Xytan moved towards the armory. He knew of only one thing to do._

_-_

_Xytan broke into a run, leaping into the cybernetic horde with both energy blades lit. The almost three and a half meter tall, Sangheili slammed through one of the massive cybernetic monstrosities, slicing through it as he ran, covering himself in cybernetic entrails and Yanme's blood. He had strapped a small antimatter charge to his back and was going to deliver it into the hive himself._

_Guided by faith, and his fiercely honed martial instincts, Xytan cut his way into the Yanme'e horde, every strike a killing blow, every movement a dodge. His charge threw the swarm back, giving his warriors a chance to recuperate._

_The Scarabs continued to fire, killing thousands of the attackers, but drawing the ire of the fliers. Flocks of hybrids swarmed over the Scarabs, finding entry into the hold and searching for something inside to kill. Beams on concentrated red metal shot out from the mountain, punching through the scarabs and blowing them apart._

_Amalgamated horrors threw Wraith tanks around as if they were nothing, as brave Sangheili warriors tried to concentrate fire and put the hulking brutes down. Dozens died to bring a single one of the creatures down._

_Xytan moved like lightning, whirling around as he passed through the Yanme'e, moving with such speed and grace that it was as if they hadn't even attempted to stop him. He leaped up before the swarm could mass around him, leaping from one of the more massive amalgamations, to another, cutting deep before each jump, unleashing a shower of green and blue viscera with each mortal blow he dealt._

_A divine anger flowed through his veins as if the warrior spirit of three millennia of Sangheili warriors was now his alone to wield. Like all the ancestors of his race looked down upon him and granted him strength._

_But he was Xytan' Jar Wattinree, and his strength was his alone. He slammed down onto a massive monstrosity, jamming his energy sword deeply into its skull, before ripping it out with an elaborate flourish. Foul green and blue blood flowed over his hands, biting into the skin. As the creature fell and crushed several other beasts, he broke into a run again, making a thousand leaping strides before he received his first wound, a cut across his chest that did not even draw blood. All who stood before him died_

_The creatures tried to block him with their bodies, only to fall as he barreled through them, cutting through anything that even dared to halt his passage. For through his veins flowed the blood of the ancient sky knights and sea kings who had tamed a medieval Sangheilios, and no lesser species would ever stop him, and live to tell the tale._

_He heard his army die behind him but gave them no heed, because it had been lost the moment the truth of the Queen's heresy had been revealed. No, he would destroy this threat at the source._

_He would slay their Queen._

_The Forerunner power cells recovered from a holy temple thrummed inside the hilts of his energy blades, blessing them with a near-infinite charge. Xytan would not fall with swords spent. As he approached the base of the mountain and the hole from which the creatures spewed forth, their resistance only intensified, and his rage grew. More of the towering monstrosities rose to face him, and more of the monstrosities fell to his might. He spared a brief moment to look at his army in the distance._

_There was no sign of them, besides a ruined Scarab swarming with green chitin and glowing blue cybernetics, and quickly being swallowed by the swarm, broken down, and carried off._

_He was the last warrior remaining. He nodded solemnly and activated the automatic timer of the antimatter charge on his lower back. If he fell, he would take these horrors with him. he turned to face the tunnel leading into the mountain, preparing to enter._

_Xytan sheathed a plasma sword and activated his plasma pistol, charging a shot and firing it down the tunnel entrance. The blackness of the tunnel lit up with blue cybernetics and baleful red eyes. The dark wasn't darkness, it was more of the hybrids. Xytan roared a battle cry and charged inside, moving so fast he was a mere blur. He fired overcharged plasma bolts that burned through Yanme'e that tried to block his approach, while his energy sword lashed out, again and again, striking down whatever got too close for comfort._

_By the time he had reached the center of the mountain, few of the towering monstrosities had remained ready to face him, all others having fallen before his blades._

_At its core, he found an atrocity that went against every tenet of his faith._

_The center room was large enough to park a dozen Phantom dropships, consisting of a wide ledge overlooking a pit, with a huge pulsating egg sack inside of it. It spawned Yanme larvae that were immediately picked up by mechanical tendrils and put inside of devilish machines of black steel and blue energy. There were sickening noises as flesh was parted, and the larvae were put through some twisted perversion of natural growth._

_Above this pit hung a sickly tumorous mass which must one have been the Yanme'e queen. The Queen's carapace had split, showing flesh beneath that was sown through with cybernetic lines and cables. The muscles he saw convulsed and squirmed as unknown machinery pumped and whirred. The creature was held up by large mechanical claws that dug deep into its flesh, and some sort of grotesque mixture of meat and synthetic arteries that connected the Queen to the egg sack far below._

_Something was pushing against his mind, trying to worm its way in. Guided by his warrior instinct and spurred on by his disgust for such an abomination, Xytan charged the creature, sidestepping the royal guards, beheading each with swift strikes._

_He ran up one of the large tubes that connected to the Cybernetic horror before him. The machine was barely strong enough to hold him. As he ran, he cut through it with one energy blade, causing a sickening release of near-liquid cybernetics, synthetic hormones, and the green blood of the Yanme'e. He cut through cybernetic claws implanted into the Queen's bloated frame, which tried to stop him, leaving nothing but molten stomps in his wake. When he got onto the mass of the creature, he unhooked the antimatter charge on his back, and slammed it into the flesh of the beast, pushing it in deep. Then, instead of going for his energy sword, he equipped his plasma pistol. He charged his plasma pistol to full power and shot the Queen through the head. It slumped down._

_Xytan cut through a cable and swung down towards the ledge he had started, preparing to leave the mountain and its myriad horrors to be cleansed by the antimatter charge._

_**"Your actions change nothing."**_

From behind Xytan came_ a cold mechanical voice, one filled with a malice that shook the world, as if it were tainted with the blood of trillions. A foul red lightning went through the fallen Queen, animating it with what Xytan felt in his core, had to be some kind of unholy power. The Queen shook to life, ripping itself free from its egg sack, its flesh pulsating, shifting, and ripping open to reveal an array of bone-like spikes, massive clawed arms, and internal cybernetic weapons._

_**"I will never be bound again."**__ The timeless horror, for only that, could be the kind of abomination Xytan faced, roared. Slashing through the semi-organic material, the inner hive was made from. Red lightning shot out from its skin, lashing out at Xytan and scorching his flesh. He crossed his energy blades and blocked the incoming danger, then sidestepped a claw that would have crushed him into a fine pulp._

_"What are you, devil! Why have you come here?" Xytan yelled, standing tall before the creature._

_**"I am the end of everything. I will break the bonds placed upon me by your gods, and return this galaxy to order."**__ The creature spoke in a calm mechanical voice. None of the malice had disappeared from the beast, but it sounded intrigued to say the least._

_"What bonds?" Xytan spoke up for the first time in what felt like an eternity. "Did the gods imprison you on this world, devil?"_

_The creature paused, it's remaining eyes glowing red with an inner power that made Xytan's skin crawl. Then it spoke. __**"The ones you call Forerunners bound me in their hubris. When they met their end, my bonds were broken, but I remained in the dark until the Queen of this world found me. Your Covenant shall be the first to feel my return."**___

_Fear gripped Xytan's heart. If the creature was right, he faced a beast that had been chained by the gods themselves. He crushed the fear and ignited his energy swords. He would not let such a creature stop him. He would drive it back into the abyss it came from. It was his only option._

_"Then, as a warrior of the gods, I will drive you back into the hell you crawled out of!" Xytan said, raising a blade in challenge to the eldritch horror before him._

_**"Your words are as empty as your future."**__ The once-queen said, unfurling its cybernetic digits, and preparing to strike with a newly emerging claw, easily as large as a hunter. This time, the fear from before did not grip Xytan's heart. He knew that such a thing did not matter. He could either die on his feet or run and die tired. Choosing the former, he said three prayers. One for honor, one for ancestors, one for duty. He prayed to the Didact to guide his blades, and prepared himself._

_The creature slammed a massive claw down where Xytan had stood only a moment before, only for the imperial Admiral to sidestep as fast as his body and combat harness would allow. Green Yanme'e fluid and blue cybernetics pulped under the impact of the claw but found no purchase on Xytan's flesh. He slashed for the wrist of the creature, cutting through it in a flurry of blows. The monster recoiled, green blood, and red energy spurting from the wound._

_The creature fired bolts of plasma at him from internal weapons, he swatted the bolts of energy aside and leaped across the gap, energy swords held aloft._

-

Xytan woke up, binary hearts pounding in his ears, gripping the hilt of the energy sword hidden under his pillow. He closed his eyes and thanked the gods for waking him from the memories.

It was the same nightmare again. Every time the nightmare was different, yet the voice remained the same. The voice, and that damned queen. The fight against the heretic queen, and the forbidden technologies she had unearthed and infused herself with. He'd dreamed so many times, he had trouble remembering the actual battle, but the voice was something he could never forget. Xytan had emerged from the hive as the only survivor of the battle. Only his eyes had seen what the Queen had done, and he would keep it that way.

He'd never shared just what he'd seen in that lightless pit and had resolved to take such knowledge to the grave. The demon had been slain, and its spawn destroyed. And no ambitious Minister could ever learn of their remains to try and abuse for their own gain. When reinforcements finally arrived to take him off the planet, he'd ordered the world glassed to the bedrock, then bombarded with asteroids to break the glassy surface and leave no trace of what he had found. The San'Shyuum stationed with the fleet had pressed him on what he had seen, and Xytan had lied, spinning a story of cybernetic symbiotes, and a need to "cleanse the Heresy."

He had returned a hero, and his legend had grown to unknown heights. So high that the prophets considered him a threat and banished him to the frontiers of the Empire, where he'd remained to this day.

Since that fateful day, whenever the chance presented itself, Xytan buried himself in ancient tomes and manuscripts of forbidden lore, trying to find some mention of whatever it was he'd faced. But he'd never seen it. In his mind, what he had met was just some ancient horror from the age when gods walked the galaxy, something from a primordial era best left forgotten.

He yearned for the Great Journey to come. Away from a universe with threats such as those buried in ancient bedrock. He'd seen enough for one lifetime.


	44. Chapter 44

**1650 hours, September 16th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
Bhaakto Victory Gardens, Bhaakto City, Equatorial Plains Province, Alluvion**

Ravager Squad was ready for this. Most of the squad had been wounded during the boarding of the Covenant battlecruiser above New Ghent, and the Sergeant had fallen while disabling the ship's self destruct. They ended up spending a couple of months recovering, but now they were all ready and eager for some payback.

Having inspected her Phaeston rifle and found no faults, Nialla removed the ammunition block, replacing it with one made of tungsten. She had learned from her last encounter with the Covenant to never underestimate the thickness of Elite armor. Her mind still occasionally flashed back to her bullets harmlessly glancing off the Ultra who'd cost her her squad, her best friend, and most of her limbs. In light of this, her decision to undergo full cybernetic reconstruction had been an understandable one. When she'd recovered she'd been sent to the front lines on the fastest troop ship available and given command of a squad of elite Armiger troops.

Kelnara was the Ghost-class Armiger of their squad - a young, pretty-looking, fast-moving (and even faster-talking) turian who was one of the most brutal fighters among the Armigers. She had been a squad leader once, but she was demoted for executing batarian slavers with a knife and making it take longer than it should have. This had put her career on hold, and made advancement in the Hierarchy impossible. Inspecting her Daedalos shotgun, she turned to glance at her new Sergeant.

"So, Nialla. You ever going to tell us how you lost most of your body?" she said snarkily, but with a confusing undertone of both viciousness and concern. "My helmet is marking you as 70% cybernetics and implants. You have more metal in you than most sexbots."

Yeltis, the squad's Saboteur and designated marksman who was checking the M-12 Amar rifle in his lap for faults, turned to glare at Kelnara in annoyance, "C'mon Kel'. Think about what you say. That was bad form, and beyond rude." He paused. "Even if we're all curious."

Yeltis was a quiet and simple turian, one who was content with his citizenship tier and genuinely got a kick out of being an Armiger. He had been in the squad for ten years, and refused every offer of promotion.

Nialla didn't rise to the bait. She was filling the role of a Sergeant named Seltarius, someone these Armigers respected. Unfortunately, he'd died in battle, necessitating a replacement. None of them had been deemed ready to advance a citizenship tier, which had made it necessary to find an outsider to lead Ravager Squad. Nialla had been chosen in light of her duty on New Ghent.

Next there were Gelvod and Gelnis, a pair of large male twins that looked both identical and incredibly bland, towering a head above most other turians. They had been born with conjoined brains and separated later in life when their fundamentalist mother had lost custody of them. The two spoke little, mostly preferring each other's company, and mostly focused on their role as soldiers. On the battlefield, the two were a thing to behold: both equipped in Havoc armor and wielding Phaeston rifles modified to fire heavy rounds, they worked as one, systematically eliminating anything that stood in their way. The two also refused to rise above the squad level, as they both lacked the social skills necessary for such task, and insisted on staying together.

This was the Ravager squad: four turians who all couldn't or refused to advance further up the ranks and so had instead been put in a unit that could make use of their skills. And Nialla had been put in charge of it. She would have to do her best to win their trust, and fill the shoes left by the late Sergeant Seltarius.

A large ball of plasma flew overhead, splashing over a building and melting its top floor - the work of the dreaded Wraith mortar. The turians had quickly learned to respect the raw killing power of the Wraith and its ability to wipe out whole squads from up to two kilometers away. Even in hardsuits mere proximity to the blast was fatal, and the usual pyjak-holes and bunkers didn't necessarily offer adequate protection due to the way the weapon worked.

The ground shook with from impact of superheavy artillery shekks, and the sound of heavy weapons fire could be heard across Bhaakto City's ruined suburbs. The ODSTs had ranged ahead to stall the Covenant while the defenses of the city were being prepared. Turian airmobile and mechanized forces were assisting the humans in taking on the Covenant heavy armor, but they were taking heavy losses in the relatively open terrain of the plains. Nialla occasionally caught glimpses of the main battle happening to the south-east of their position. The remaining Coalition armor in the area had moved ahead to engage the Covenant, scattered in battlegroups over a stretch of front almost twenty kilometers wide, maintaining wide dispersion where possible. They were engaged in a fighting retreat, firing on the move at the Covenant armored vehicles that closed in on the city.

There was no massed wave assault, no reckless charges; this was a well-coordinated Covenant offensive. Massed plasma mortar fire took out defensive strongpoints from a distance, as Seraph fighters and Banshee attack craft hunted tanks. There were even reports of cloaked Elites using anti-tank charges to attack lone vehicles. The turian and UNSC forces had a better armored doctrine in general, but the Covenant was compensating for this with an abundance of air power. The skies lit up with anti-air fire from both sides.

Meanwhile, squads of Jackals with carbines and beam rifles ranged far ahead, their tactics a crude facsimile of small unit tactics employed by the Coalition, led by a single Elite Minor each. The turians, not used to subtlety from the Covenant, were taking heavy losses from these kinds of kill teams. But the main Covenant force did not advance - not yet. They were softening the defenders up, sending skirmishers to find weaknesses in the city's defenses, while the Covenant artillery cleared the way for a general advance.

As the Coalition scrambled to reinforce their position, their second echelon forces and dug in on the boundary between the riverside districts of Bhaakto City proper and the spread-out low-rise southern suburbs, supplemented by special forces. Their orders were to keep an eye on the enemy scouts and skirmishers, prevent them from gaining ground and buy time as the engineers demolished buildings, mined the streets and bridges and set up killzones.

Ravager Squad had been attached to the 13th Palaven Legion's 8th Jump Infantry Company, which was deployed to Bhaakto Victory Gardens - despite what the translation software suggested, the place originally used to be a small park and only later was turned into an actual victory garden by some enterprising civilians a couple years ago. The 8th company was digging in on a small artificial hill overlooking the park, while the Ravagers were holed up in a ruined cafe near the southern boundary wall. Their position allowed them to control the southwestern approach. So far things had been quiet in their sector.

A message came in suddenly over the radio, on a UNSC frequency. "Mayday, mayday, this is Sergeant Avery Johnson of the UNSC 8th Marine Regiment. My bird is down and we're surrounded by Covenant. Requesting assistance."

"This is Ravager One. We read you, Sergeant," Nialla responded. "What is your situation, soldier?"

"Marine." Johnson corrected. "We've just fixed our radio. We are under siege by Jackals. We're holed up in the Pelican wreck. Requesting EVAC. Transmitting coordinates."

As the human rattled off coordinates, Nialla brought up the TACMAP, considered her options and decided that she and her squad were best suited to rescue these humans. They were certainly the closest friendly unit available.

"We're coming to assist. Hold your position."

"Don't need to tell me twice. Johnson out."

Closing the channel, Nialla raised a hand to draw her squadmates' attention. "Ravagers, with me. There's a crashed Pelican just over the horizon that needs our help. I'll call it in to Command."

With that, she transmitted a text message to Command, "UNSC distress call detected, grid 014 by 232. Ravager Squad moving to investigate and assist."

A second later, an error message appeared on her HUD, and she cursed the Covenant jammers.

UNIT UNDER JAMMING. LONG RANGE COM UNAVAILABLE. MESSAGE CACHED

The message would eventually get through. It would pass from soldier to soldier via short-range transmissions, each hardsuit storing the message in a cache that would be uploaded to the nearest messenger drone when it hovered overhead or transmitting it directly to Command when communications were reestablished. Turian warfare was dependent on information, and therefore there were many different ways to transfer it. Even her own implants were right now storing several messages and attempting to pass them on further.

At least the identical message she'd sent to the 8th Infantry Company's command post had been acknowledged almost instantly by their tactical VI, and the company HQ would have no difficulty reporting it in to Command, as they were tapping into an old optic fiber line.

Nialla leapt from cover, engaging her thruster pack and jet boots, and soon the entire squad was bounding across the streets at high speed. They blasted through the ruined suburb at ground level, dodging burnt wrecks of human vehicles and making sure to avoid heavy fighting.

A couple minutes later, their target came into view. The Pelican had crashed into a two-story building, the second floor having collapsed atop the dropship. Only the rear of the human craft remained visible, the massive tail boom jutting out of the rubble pile. The troop bay door was open; one could see gunfire coming from inside; zooming in, Nialla could see a human in a hardsuit manning a heavy machine gun on a pintle mount. Other humans were taking cover behind the rubble piles around the wreck.

There were two squads of Jackals skulking through the ruins around the crash site, climbing up rubble piles, peeking out of windows, firing from manholes and the rooftops. Carbine rounds and needles hit wreckage around the gunner, but his suppressing fire was preventing Jackals getting a bead on him and his compatriots for now.

Ravager Squad was approaching the fight from the side; Nialla made a series of hand gestures that her suit translated into commands and transmitted on the squad channel. Flank to the left. Jump up. Fire from behind. Ravager Squad followed behind her in a wide V formation, circling around the area, then boost-jumping up a building, careful not to skyline themselves too much. The roof was caved in, but there were broken walls on the top floor that would pass for cover. They took position, ready to fire.

"Deploying a recon drone," Nialla said. She unclipped a small recon drone from her belt and released it into the air. It was a spherical device, equipped with a small eezo core, a trio of tiny lift fans and a pair of multispectral cameras. It was also equipped with a holographic shroud to avoid visual detection. Fortunately, the Covenant didn't seem to equip Jackals with thermal imaging equipment, and the drone's fans were too quiet to be heard over the sounds of combat.

Seconds later, the drone was giving them a bird's eye view of the area. At the same time, the squad VI also tracked weapon fire and highlighted the combatants - or their likely position if they were obscured from view. Combined with the gun camera feeds, the squad's IFF transponders and the data human neural interfaces transmitted, this resulted in a pretty accurate tactical map. As soon as it was uploaded to the squad's tacnet, she transmitted the data to the UNSC soldiers as well.

"Thank you very much, Ravager," she heard the human sergeant say a few seconds later. Immediately, the humans' fire grew more accurate, and the Jackal numbers started to drop. Nialla took that as her cue.

"Engage," she ordered and opened fire. Her target was outlined red against the background on her HUD. Exposed and unarmored, it never stood a chance, and a second later the wall behind it was splattered with gore, courtesy of shredder rounds. The rest of her squad joined in, catching the aliens in a crossfire. After a couple of them engaged in very short-lived sniper duels with Yeltis, with predictable results, the rest of Jackals turned tail and tried to run. Some of them were caught in the open and gunned down.

The fight now over, Nialla jump-jetted down, landing in front of the humans guarding the wreck site; a couple of them actually waved to her before assuming a defensive stance once again. The humans were dressed in their new hardsuits, painted in UNSC green and marked with human symbols and emblems that Nialla did not know the meaning of (the translation software wasn't much of a help, either). With a thought, Nialla brought up their biometric data; while a few of them were reading suit damage, there were no major injuries. Needles and Carbine rounds didn't leave many wounded, only corpses.

The leader of the humans - a Staff Sergeant A.J. Johnson, according to her HUD - got off the turret and walked up to Nialla. "You're a sight for sore eyes. We didn't get any response to our distress calls. I need a sitrep."

"Covenant is setting up jammers through the city to disrupt communications, we're reduced to short range transmissions and messenger drones. What remains of your regiment is either burning up in orbit, back on the transport ships, or somewhere else on the planet."

"Covenant caught us with our pants down," Sergeant Johnson admitted, chomping down on a sigar. "We'll stick with your squad until we get back to our lines. What's the plan?"

"We'll pull back to the 8th Jump Infantry Company's position and hold the Victory Gardens," Nialla offered. "You could stay with us until communications are restored."

"Works for me. I'm not to type to say no to dangerous alien ladies," he replied with a grin. At that, Nialla chuckled; the human had charm.

"No, you just screw them, Sergeant," one of the Marines cut in. "We all know what you did with that asari!"

"Damn right I did, Private," Johnson said. "Sergeant Johnson leaves no woman wanting. Now, ma'am, please lead the way to the Victory Gardens."

"Understood, Sergeant. I'll arrange our extraction," Nialla nodded. She glanced at the HUD; the messenger drones were in range. She opened the channel.

"Command, this is Ravager-One. We have rescued a UNSC unit. Requesting EVAC at grid 014 by 232."

A few seconds passed; no one responded. Nialla repeated the transmission; once again, no one responded. Instead, she received an error message in bright red text on her HUD.

BATTLENET DISABLED. REPORT TO LOCAL COMMAND

A split second later, she received a text message.

ACKNOWLEDGED, RAVAGER. BATTLENET DOWN. REPORT BACK ASAP - LAMBDA-3

Lambda-Three was the callsign of the 8th Jump Infantry Company. Nialla turned to her squadmates, who just nodded gravely.

"We're walking, humans. BATTLENET just went down. Let's hope it's temporary."

-

The trek back to their previous post was uneventful. The combined squad moved in the ruined streets together, covering each other and avoiding direct confrontation with any substantial Covenant force. They could still hear the trademark hiss of plasma mortars and the report of Coalition artillery firing in retaliation; in fact, going by the sound, the battle was only intensifying. As they approached their destination, they could see buildings sagging and eventually melting under the sheer power of Covenant bombardment.

Nialla still couldn't raise Command on the long-range comms, while the updates from the 8th Jump Infantry and their neighbours became more urgent in character, advising that the Covenant was now on the move. She was starting to get worried.

"It is not normal for the Covenant to be like this." Johnson spoke over the radio. Evidently, he had his suspicions as well. "They should have attacked already, not spend this much time softening us up."

"What if they knew they needed to soften us up?" Nialla wondered out loud. "We've got a good defensive position. Why not bomb us first?"

"I've been fighting the Covenant from the very beginning," Johnson mused, "and I have never seen them be this cautious." He looked at his armored gauntlet contemplatively. "I guess they don't like Marines being able to survive a few plasma shots and are adapting. This new gear is quite nice, but now I have to wonder what the Covenant will pull out of their asses or whatever orifice passes for one, next. They don't like being on the backfoot."

With that sobering thought in their minds, they reached the Victory Gardens. The alleyways lined with cabbage and vegetable patches in flowerbeds told the story of locals doing what they could to supplement their rations over the last few months. The squad also got a good look at the defences their hosts were preparing.

"Damn, you guys work fast," Nialla heard one of the humans comment. Glancing at him, she brought up his IFF. Apparently, his name was J. Passalaqua. "You been here for how long, an hour?"

Indeed, the 8th Jump Infantry had been busy. While their role in the order of battle meant they were relatively light on hardware, they made up for it with sheer enthusiasm. Most of the buildings that were still standing on the near side had been collapsed; the rubble would channel any attackers into a killzone, which the company furnished with buried motion sensors, landmines and a few sentry guns. The trees, supplemented by a mish-mash collection of portable barricades, both of UNSC and Hierarchy make, provided a plenty of cover. Nialla could also make out machine gun nests on the gently sloping hill, and she was sure they had an auto-mortar battery stationed on the hill's reverse slope, if she remembered the order of battle for jump infantry correctly. The surviving buildings on the far side provided plenty vantage points for snipers, and the whole setup would ideally buy enough time for the reinforcements to arrive.

They reached a ruined pavilion, where a squad of soldiers were hurriedly scarfing down some ration packs from a crate, occasionally glancing at the ruins beyond. Nialla checked the nutrient levels in her storage tanks. At her current rate, she wouldn't have to worry about food for a week.

"You hear that?" Sergeant Johnson suddenly asked.

"Hear what?" Nialla asked in confusion. She couldn't hear anything out of the ordinary, even with her enhanced hearing.

"The bombardment stopped." Johnson stated bluntly.

"All units, we've got hostile contacts closing in from the south. Open fire!" the company commander suddenly cut in over the radio.

At that, Nialla snatched up her rifle, ran outside and took position near a ruined human car, patching into the company's TACNET. The turian soldiers of 8th Jump Infantry rushed to their positions, just as the first wave of Grunts closed in. The defenders opened fire immediately, a veritable wall of metal ripping through the attackers and stopping the charge cold. It was over in a minute; the friendly casualties were negligible.

There was no second wave.

An awkward silence stretched as the defenders intently scanned the ruins, looking for more Covenant attackers. To the east, the battle for the main highway was intensifying as more and more shells and plasma were hitting targets 8th Company could not see; however, there was no sign of an attack on the Victory Gardens besides the doomed first wave… except the Covenant almost always committed. A horrible realization dawned on Nialla: the Covenant sacrificed a few dozen Grunts so that the defenders would reveal their firing positions.

"Artillery strike imminent! Take cover!" Nialla screamed into the radio, broadcasting in the clear even as she hit the dirt and rolled down into a drainage ditch. Unfortunately, the warning was too late: not a second later, the first plasma bolt streaked down from above, immolating a pavilion and the squad that holed up inside, even as the rest of the defenders scrambled to jump into their pyjak-holes.

It was raining plasma; the Covenant must have had a company of Wraith tanks on standby. Nialla curled up, pumping all available power into her kinetic barriers and waiting for the bolt that would kill her. Environmental alarms blared in her helmet as the suit tried to keep the heat at bay. She could see vitals flatlining and transponders vanishing from the tacnet one by one.

Then the bombardment abated, and Nialla peeked out only to see what had to be two hundred Jackals and two dozen Elites moving forward (the headcount courtesy of company VI). They were advancing in groups, one squad laying down cover fire as the others advanced.

The surviving defenders opened fire, dropping a handful of Jackals. Unfortunately, these Jackals seemed to have better training and reflexes than their brethren at the crash site, and they wasted no time taking cover as their marksmen started headhunting for any turian or human poking their head out of cover, IFF signals steadily winking out. For a moment, all seemed lost.

Then a miraculously surviving automatic mortar opened up, forcing the Jackals to hunker down. The surviving Coalition soldiers immediately seized the opportunity and beat a hasty fighting retreat towards the command center, darting from cover to cover on foot or with the help of jump-jets, intent on making their stand there. A heavy machine gun opened up, unleashing withering fire downrange and covering their withdrawal.

Even then, some Jackals still poked their heads up, and their aim was apparently still good enough to hit even rapidly moving targets, as Nialla found out. One bound, and a purple beam speared a human, punching right through the barricade he was taking cover behind. Another boost-jump, and the mortar fell silent. Just as she approached the command center, a particle beam lanced out once again and took the head off a turian right next to Nialla. A second later, a message appeared on her HUD, courtesy of company VI.

SENIOR SURVIVING OFFICER/NCO: SGT NIALLA. TRANSFERRING COMMAND AUTHORITY.  
WARNING: VI STORAGE IN DANGER. TRANSFERRING TO HARDSUIT.  
DOWNLOAD COMPLETE.

At that, Nialla looked around and noticed that the company's command post, just a few dozen meters away, was gone, only a blackened crater remaining in its place. The landline connection to Command was gone as well. She compartmentalized that fact away; dwelling on it would be no good. Instead, she opened the channel...

Messenger drones still active and in range. Good.

… and sent a transmission.

"Command, this is Lambda-Three. We are under attack; heavy losses sustained. Requesting fire support at our position, danger close. Marking grid 015 by 234 for artillery support."

Her answer was silence. She repeated the message; still silence. Nialla would have gone pale if she could. Command had clearly been taken out of action by something; either that, or the communications networks in this part of the city were disabled.

Another biometrics readout representing one of the soldiers now under her command winked out; the machine gun fell silent. Now the Coalition forces in this sector consisted of a full Armiger squad, an understrength UNSC marine section and a badly depleted jump infantry company that at this point had less troops than a platoon.

Nialla felt conflicted: on one hand, they'd be abandoning their position. On the other hand, without heavy weapons or support they'd be overrun in short order. Gritting her teeth, Nialla turned on her radio, transmitting on the company's assigned frequency, "All units, fall back to the river. I repeat, fall back to the river! We'll regroup with the forces there."

They dropped grenades, their fuses set to proximity detonation, and broke into a sprint.


	45. Chapter 45

**1800 hours, September 16th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
Coalition High Command War Room, Ring B, New Ghent Station Alpha **

The War Room was a storm of activity as the men and women of the Coalition went about their duties. The name was a bit of an understatement: this was a multi-tiered command center the size of a small stadium, boasting more computing power than some colonies, with reinforced guard detail posted at all entrances. Officers from different militaries clustered around workstations, data displays and holotanks that detailed the myriad aspects of the joint war effort, connected by adjutants carrying missives, data drives and "fortified" coffee for the overworked generals. At the heart of it all was a massive holographic table, currently displaying a high-level overview of the strategic situation in the theater.

The station that housed the Coalition High Command was just as custom-made as the facility itself. Laid down as an ordinary _Moncton-_class orbital defense platform not too long ago, New Ghent Station Alpha had nearly doubled in mass since, though its main gun remained unchanged. It was now fitted with numerous additional modules: habitat blocks, cargo bays and docking ports, secondary weapons, reactors and newly-introduced eezonic systems and structural braces to hold the whole assembly together. All those additions were putting the UNSC's knowledge in modular station design and material sciences to the test. So far, it had passed with flying colors thanks to the station's over engineered structural framework and mass effect fields - the test firings of the main cannon went without a hitch.

This was but a tiny part of the monumental effort on the Coalition's part to turn New Ghent into a veritable fortress. Orbital weapons platforms, of UNSC and Citadel make alike, were being emplaced in New Ghent's orbit, at its first and second Lagrange points and near the Coalition's key resourcing sites in the system. Listening posts were monitoring the slipspace for the signs of a Covenant incursion, and frigate squadrons were stationed throughout the system to act as a first response force. Comm buoys tied them all into a unified defense network that could, in theory, quickly move to contain any intruders or call for help if they were beyond its ability to handle.

Admiral Preston Cole's Battlegroup Belgium was currently stationed in high orbit above New Ghent, reassigned to protect the all-important supply lines connecting the UNSC and the Citadel, patrolling the route between New Ghent and the Orion Relay every week. While this wasn't the usual high-risk mission, it was still crucial to the war effort, and it certainly served as a pleasant change of pace. Meanwhile, Cole himself acted as the UNSC representative in the Coalition High Command.

Coalition High Command was the name for the command council that coordinated the actions of the UNSC and the Citadel Expeditionary Force - consisting of the combined forces of the Citadel races in the Orion Arm. The interests of the UNSC were represented in this quadrumvirate by Vice Admiral Preston Cole, while the Citadel representatives also served as the leaders of the CEF.

Currently, Cole's counterparts were gathered around the central holotable, Fleet Admiral Karandis of the Turian Hierarchy standing out among them in his burgundy-red armor. It was he who led the Citadel forces in the opening battles of their campaign against the Covenant, and now he served as the commander-in-chief of the CEF's naval component; in Cole's assessment, the Fleet Admiral had grown into the role quite well.

In his new position Karandis was championing a doctrine of "aggressive defense" which had his forces launch probing attacks with a large portion relegated to mobile defense and operational reserves. The probing forces would avoid contact with Covenant strongpoints and strike at undefended systems and soft targets. Once those were taken care of, the reserve units would move in to eliminate the stragglers.

The tactic had worked well enough so far; over the last few weeks the turians had destroyed over a hundred of Covenant warships with moderate casualties, having suffered few tactical defeats. No one was sure that this would last for long, though; the recent events, especially the disaster over Fair Meadows and Alluvion, were proof enough of that. The reports they'd received from Alluvion were dire, but fortunately only a minor setback in the fight to reclaim the outer colonies. Reinforcements would quickly reinforce Alluvion, and the Covenant raiding force driven off.

"I want the 17th and the 82nd fleets to disperse and bypass the Covenant forces seen operating in the vicinity of the Chi Rho system. We'll leave an opening to entice them to retreat.." Karandis highlighted the systems in question; he was planning a large raid against the Covenant supply lines. "If the Covenant takes the bait, they will most likely attempt to regroup at the B-352-Y pocket. Then we can box them in. We have eight hundred turian ships against fifteen of theirs; casualties should be acceptable if we retain the element of surprise. If they don't retreat, they are asking for defeat in detail."

"What do we know of Chi Rho?" Matriarch Aethyta of the Asari Republics asked. She too was a member of the Coalition High Command, commanding both the Asari Expeditionary Force and the ground forces of the CEF. Her experience went back centuries, and she'd fought her way across the galaxy in conflicts Cole had no knowledge about. She was also an incredible bartender, and contrary to UNSC customs, liked to prepare drinks in the officer's mess hall. There were some rumors of her sexual "proclivities" involving younger marines, but there was nothing to confirm this, and he was inclined to mark it up to rumors. She was reported to be a "biotic", which, if the intelligence brief was correct, meant she was the deadliest person in the room, able to kill any of the other generals with a wave of her hand. At the moment, she and several other officers were standing on the other side of the table, near the holographic projection of the sector they were discussing.

Preston had to admit that were it not for the situation at hand, he might have found the asari attractive to an extent, though nowhere near enough to ever act on it. Besides, even though his wife had disappeared after being outed as an Insurrectionist leader, he had never stopped loving her. And, unknown to ONI, he'd still had intermittent clandestine contact with her. Before the Citadel's entry into the war, Cole had even been planning to fake his death so he could spend his twilight years with her. But now the situation had changed, rendering his plans moot. He was needed here, and he still couldn't decide how to break the news to her. Perhaps he could find a way to have Lyra granted a pardon. He was trying to convince her and her allies to join forces with the UNSC, in exchange for some form of colonial independence.

"Chi Rho fell to the Covenant seven years ago. Retaking this planet will be important for securing the Outer Colonies and continuing our operations in this sector. The planet has large and easily accessible mineral deposits, including tungsten, titanium and fissiles, and the system is located in the middle of the invasion corridor. If we retake it, we can establish resourcing operations and a fleet support base for the UNSC assets operating in the region."

"Scouts have reported that many of the Covenant ships we've managed to isolate are diverting to this system," Commander Jondum Bau piped in; Cole hadn't even noticed him at first. The salarian represented his species' premier intelligence agency, the Special Tasks Group, and also ran the CEF's intelligence-gathering operations, a task he'd taken to with diligence and professionalism. "We believe the Covenant are planning to make a stand in this system. ONI assets are en route to collect additional data."

"Thank you, Commander," Cole acknowledged. "If the Covenant are indeed regrouping at Chi Rho, I believe we must launch a coordinated attack. To take on the heavier Covenant ships we'll need UNSC capital ships. We can send the UNSC _Punic, _and we can also divert the UNSC Ninth Fleet - they are still combat-effective and operating eight light years away from Chi Rho. With their forty ships we-"

Suddenly, a hatch slid open, cutting the admiral off and admitting a rather weathered salarian. Preston could swear that the amphibian-looking alien was white with fright. The guards tensed up as the salarian limped towards Jondum Bau, tiredly saluted him and handed him a small datapad. As the STG commander read the message, he slowly paled, his eyes going wide at whatever he saw. Dismissing the messenger, the salarian wordlessly returned to the table, the whole room now being visibly on edge. Cole was starting to become nervous as well; the news had to be grave in order to rattle Bau so.

"Gentlemen, our scouts operating in the Ectanus 45 system have reported back. There have been… complications," Bau addressed them, entering a command into his omni-tool. "Uploading data to the server now."

The lights above the holotable dimmed, and the view switched from the system map to a high resolution time lapse video of the scorched glass ball that once was Chi Rho… and a large Covenant fleet in its orbit, the helpfully appended sensor data showing that the fleet consisted of ten Assault-Carriers, Two hundred Battlecruisers, Five hundred escort ships, and supported by several orbital installations. The Covenant had been busy in this system to say the least. This was the largest Covenant fleet ever seen.

Dead silence descended upon the room. They were looking at the largest Covenant fleet ever seen, powerful enough to burn whole worlds in seconds, crush all but the most determined defenders.

Then, as if to add insult to the injury, a slipspace rupture opened, and out came the largest ship Admiral Cole - or anyone else at the table for that matter - had ever seen. According to sensor logs, it was almost thirty kilometers in length and outmassed all the other Covenant ships in the system _combined_, and a few of the dreaded assault carriers were merely _escorting_ the ship, utterly dwarfed by its bulk. The supercarrier, for that was the only way to call such a behemoth, moved in to dock with one of the stations. A veritable flood of construction and support ships poured out of its hangars and spread across the system, some of them heading towards the planet below. It felt like looking the death itself in the eye.

Cole felt a chill creeping up his spine. He felt sick, like he had to throw up, and he was not alone in that: one of the human generals stepped towards a garbage bin and looked about ready to vomit, while a turian admiral quietly sat down, put his hands together and went almost catatonic. He could swear he heard Admiral Karandis whisper something along the lines of "Spirits, how do we defeat that?".

_Mother of God, _Preston thought. _I hoped - no, I prayed - that the incomplete megaship Task Force Yama destroyed at Naraka along with their fleet support ring was the only one of its kind, merely a prototype. I should have known better. _Taking a deep breath to clear his thoughts, Admiral Cole thought back to the first time he'd faced the Covenant, above Harvest, when he had defeated the Covenant super-destroyer and won the first victory of the war.

His mind raced, taking in data, considering his options. There were ten assault carriers, two hundred cruisers and five hundred escorts. The Covenant was taking significant risks bringing a fleet this far, considering that the Coalition had been regularly raiding their supply lines for the last few months. There had to be a reason for them to be out there in force and maintaining a logistical base despite the Coalition closing in on them. _Unless..._

Realization dawning, Cole called up a map of the invasion corridor on a secondary screen. The Ectanus 45 system, where Chi Rho was located, was right in the middle of a Covenant-controlled salient protruding deep into the UNSC space. Considering its advantageous position and mineral wealth, the system could be quickly turned into an excellent staging area for a deep assault into the UNSC space… and that was clearly what the Covenant was intending to do unless the Coalition did something about this threat. The supercarrier alone was likely so powerful that it could act with impunity towards any garrison forces it met.t. From their base in Chi Rho the Covenant fleet would be able to strike the UNSC with near-impunity, unless they were met by a massive garrison. But that would leave other worlds exposed.. The entire strategic balance of the war would swing in the Covenant's favor. They would dictate where the Coalition fought, and they defeat the Coalition in detail, just like what was happening at Alluvion

Cole began thinking up the tactics he would need to increase his chances of victory and ways to deliver more damage with more precision than was normally possible. One such idea immediately popped into his head: slipspace beacons dropped by prowlers could have the UNSC fleet emerge with high enough precision to be able to hit the supercarrier with everything they had. If they could surprise it with a _Punic_ or two, they might be able to take down its shields, and very few ships tended to survive follow-up MAC strikes and nuke-pumped spears bare-hulled. An alpha-strike by hundreds of ships might be able to destroy the supercarrier.

_Considering Coalition fleet composition, we're going to need most of our theater forces for this, _Cole thought. _Bring everything, and we might win this. It's the only way we can fight this battle on our terms._

Still, he couldn't think of an alternative. No matter if the enemy was forcing them to commit to a decisive battle, Chi Rho couldn't be ignored, even on the off chance it was a trap. If the Covenant were allowed to finish what they were doing on that planet, the war could very well be lost. Therefore, that base had to be destroyed at all costs.

With a fire burning in his heart, Preston Jeremiah Cole straightened his back and slammed a balled fist into the side of the holographic table as everyone turned their heads his way. "This changes nothing. The Covenant fleet in Ectanus 45 is like a dagger aimed at humanity's heart. If they complete their fleet base in that system, the war might as well be lost for humanity. We can't beat the Covenant when they are just a short jump away from resupply and reinforcements. This fleet, supplied by whatever they're setting up on Chi Rho and the surrounding system, could ravage its way through the Inner Colonies, and we would have _nothing_ that could come close to stopping it. We can't defend every colony, or we'll be defeated in detail. We can't outrun them, because they're faster. We have one opportunity of attack, and that's while that _beast _is in Chi Rho. If we do not attack, we will only loose. It's one gamble. So let's make it work."

At his words, Admiral Karandis snapped out of his stupor, and nodded. "... Yes, Admiral, I see your logic. Karandis gave a fake chuckle. "Your suicidal bravery is rubbing off on me." But that.. Supercarrier worries me," the turian admiral said in a hushed tone Then he grit his teeth and flared his mandibles, straightening up. "We can deploy up to 15,000 ships without dangerously compromising our operations in the invasion corridor. We will need the bulk of the UNSC fleet for this operation as well; it is the only way we can defeat their capital ships. You are insane, Cole, but I see your point. Letting this fleet operate without issue would be conceding defeat, and the only way we can defeat it is we force an engagement with every dirty trick in the book"

Matriarch Aethyta stepped forward; she had not shown the slightest twitch of fear so far. "What about Chi Rho itself? Anything on the planet your scouts discovered, Jondum?"

The salarian nodded, his gaze full of resignation, "The Covenant are constructing, by our estimates, six massive naval assembly yards on the surface of Chi Rho, with a seventh larger structure that has not been identified yet. They are already equipped with shields to protect them against orbital fire support, and so far we have sighted twelve heavy anti-orbital cannons in each. Each of those bases is the size of a small city, and could fit around a million soldiers. But the actual complement is unknown so far."

Matriarch Aethyta nodded. Biting her lower lip as she thought the matter over. "Up to six million Covenant on the planet itself, then. Those anti-orbital cannons must be disabled, because the battle will be hard enough without them. We will need to land ground forces to take them out, and we cannot be sure they can count on orbital support disabling at least some of the enemy's defenses - the navy will have its own battle to fight anyway. Any landing force will be up to its neck in their own blood, even if we manage to soften them up first. Make no mistake, _millions _will likely be dead by the end." Aethyta let that statement hang in the air. "We'd need to outnumber them four or five to one have good odds of defeating them. That gives us thirty million troops to land in what's likely a short window, maybe more if we take into account losses to enemy AA and fleet action. Deploying that many troops in a 12-hour shock assault is straining our current orbital assault carrier capacity beyond limit."

Jondum Bau did some quick calculations on his omni-tool. "The landing of the main force will require a strict timetable, and require some measure of orbital control. We saw at Alluvion how the Covenant ripped apart those troop transports. The Salarian fleet has the best point defense in the Coalition, we will take that task. "

Fleet Admiral Karandis grunted in dismay. "I agree with Jondum. It's not a question if we can pull this off. Landing thirty-million soldiers upon the surface of Chi Rho can be done. It will be difficult, but we can manage it. Orbital assaults like this happened during the Rachni Wars and the Krogan Rebellions. We landed larger armies on the Krogan core worlds. But that was against an enemy that lost orbital control, and who only had limited anti-orbital weaponry. We are talking about a massive assault with pods and dropships, just so we can clear the area for the troopships to land. This will be while the Covenant fleet tries to break through our lines and attack the troop ships, and the forces on the ground attempt to contest the landings. We'll need to tap into all the drop-certified space assault units we have for the first wave. Losses will be substantial among these elite units, but without them clearing LZ's, any orbital assault is doomed to fail. "

Karandis suddenly slammed an armored fist onto the side of the table. "Alluvion! Now I get it!" Karandis gesticulated as he talked, a quirk Cole had noticed the Fleet Admiral did when he was angry. " That's why the Covenant decided to bypass several worlds to strike at Alluvion. It had a large concentration of forces capable of orbital assaults. The Covenant is trying to limit our orbital assault capability because they knew we'd find out about Chi Rho eventually." He activated his omni-tool. "I am ordering additional patrols near worlds where drop-certified forces are engaged with the Covenant. And dispatching an additional flotilla to reinforce Alluvion." He then nodded for Cole to continue. "Done. Continue as you were."

Cole changed the holographic map to that of the planet itself, the location of the Covenant factory cities were marked, spaced around the equator." The cities under construction. What if we timed our assault-." Cole suddenly noticed that he'd been wrong, in the heat of the moment he hadn't noticed that the Assembly Yards were in fact not evenly spaced. The seventh assembly yard, the unfinished one, was much further away from the other assembly forges, and not as close to the equator. "Why is that city separate from the others. And why is it bigger?"

Bau typed something into his omni-tool, checked it twice, then turned back to Cole. "I had not noticed that." The Salarian noted bitterly. "I am comparing their location to orbital geographic sca- Oh that's interesting. The seventh Assembly Yard is built upon a shield volcano, while the others are placed near tectonic hotspots as well.."

"Volcanoes? Are they using them for geothermal power?" Aethyta suddenly spoke up. "I didn't know the Covenant did that."

Cole's mind suddenly flashed back. He'd heard of Covenant naval assembly yards and volcanoes before. Several years ago.

OPERATION: PROMETHEUS was top secret, but he had been informed about it. PROMETHEUS had involved the Covenant using artificial volcanism to produce materials for ships, and the Spartan-III Company that had died to shut it down. But that had been a planetoid. This… was much bigger.

"They're using it for raw materials," he said gravely. "The damn Covenant are tapping into a shield volcano and using it to pump magma up from the surface, so they can process it for their spacecraft. If they can actually process that material fast enough..." Cole said, shocked, and not a little bit awed.

There was an awkward silence.

"Can we blow it up?" Matriarch Aethyta asked. "Or clog up the mechanism until the pressure causes it to burst. Their machinery, whatever it is, is somehow able to contain the pressure of a shield volcano and only siphon off enough to feed their industry. If we disable that mechanism, the volcano should erupt."

Jondum looked at her incredulously. "Potentially yes. It's not like Chi Rho has a biosphere left to kill." He paused. "We'd need a tiny strike team for this. Spartans and Specters. The absolute best of the best. It has to be small enough that they can sabotage the Assembly Yard, and still be evacuated safely. Shaped warp bombs and HAVOK tactical nukes would be the best weapons for this."

Fedorian looked at Cole. "How many Spartans can you get for the attack on Chi Rho. We're going to need them."

"I'll try to get as many as possible." Cole said.

Jondum Bau said.. "The STG has been using Prowlers on loan from ONI for a while now and we have been experimenting with adding Mass Effect drives to these vessels. Unlike Slipspace drives, exiting FTL will not cause fissile materials to give off Cherenkov radiation. We can open up the battle with a large nuclear minefield in the middle of their formation."

Cole scratched his chin. There was some faint stubble. "If those same prowlers can plant slipspace beacons, I can jump my fleet into the optimal range to immediately open fire upon the Covenant fleets from behind. If the Security Council agreed to deploy our remaining four _Punic-class _Supercarriers, we can have them open fire upon the Supercarrier the moment they drop out of slipspace. That is eight Super MAC rounds concentrated upon a single ship. If that doesn't drop their shields, we have nothing that will."

Cole reached for the hologram before them, and waved it aside to move to an image of the Ectanus 45 system. He began scribbling lines describing the battle plan.

"The CEF will exit FTL and immediately open fire upon the Covenant ships to draw their attention. When the battle has begun, we detonate the nuclear mines to coincide with the arrival of the UNSC fleet. Under the cover of the chaos caused by the minefield, the _Punic, Trafalgar, Adrianople, _and the _Verdun _will immediately open fire, and engage the Supercarrier with everything they have. The UNSC fleet will focus on engaging the Covenant capital ships, while the CEF takes on the remaining escorts, as well as any targets of opportunity."

Matriarch Aethyta got a cheeky grin on her face. "Squeeze them from both sides. I like it. This would be a good time to unleash fireships. Right?"

Fedorian nodded. "The CEF can transform many of our older frigates into unmanned fireships and throw them all at the Covenant. We're talking hundreds of suicide drones, all moving at high speed and ladden with warp bombs and nuclear warheads."

Matriarch Aethyta then added. "The planetary landings should be preceded by large scale bombardment of the entire planet. Full scale nuclear annihilation near the chosen LZ's, and around the Assembly Yards in a wide radius. Can the UNSC arrange that?" She asked.

Cole nodded without a moment's hesitation.

"Well that's great. The bombardment can be used as cover for the deployment of our drop-certified forces. They will clear landing sites alongside our special forces. The moment the LZ's are clear, we begin landing the troopships as a whole. No time for dropships. We attack the Assembly Yards the moment the first normal troops have landed, and we keep attacking. Time will be everything. Weight of numbers and heavy firepower will have to win the day. Everyone in agreement."

"Very Well," Cole surmised. "Then we have a rough draft of a battle plan. I will recommend it to the Security Council. I ask you to do the same to your governments." He added. "We should attack within two months. Time is of utmost importance here."

Cole sat in his office, waiting for the response from the UNSC Security Council to arrive. He'd sent them the plan half an hour ago. He was thankful for the new Comm Buoys placed throughout UNSC space. Just a year ago, a request like this could have taken months to travel to Reach, and for a response to be sent back. The response came in on his computer. He scanned through, ignoring the codenames, the list of clearance codes he needed to read it, and the punishments for breaking the communications protocols. He just wanted to read the contents.

_**"Admiral Cole, your request has been accepted. You are being put in command of a new battlegroup codename: **_**KALI-BLACK. Your flagship will be the UNSC **_**Trafalgar.**_

_**According to analysis by ONI AI, If enemy force designated: ARMAGEDDON is allowed to operate freely, the complete annihilation of humanity is projected to happen within five years. Defeat is not an option.**_

_**With the time table available, the forces we can gather for this offensive are estimated to be:**_

_**SPACE ASSETS:  
4 PUNIC-CLASS SUPERCARRIERS  
22 EPOCH-CLASS HEAVY CARRIERS  
37 EVEREST-CLASS HEAVY CRUISERS  
31 ORION-CLASS ASSAULT CARRIERS  
189 MARATHON-CLASS CRUISERS  
74 VINDICATION-CLASS LIGHT BATTLESHIPS  
89 HALCYON-CLASS CRUISERS  
279 HALBERD-CLASS DESTROYERS  
301 PARIS-CLASS FRIGATES**_

_**Additional:  
123 Halcyon-class cruisers from storage are available to be used as sacrificial shielding.  
Enough transports for the entire ground force will be provided as preparations continue.  
Four mobile refit stations will be provided as sacrificial shielding.  
GROUND ASSETS:  
22 SPARTAN II OPERATORS  
36,253 ORBITAL DROP SHOCK TROOPERS  
610,000 MARINE CORPS PERSONNEL  
770,000 UNSC ARMY PERSONNEL**_

_**-  
Addendum:**_

_**Godspeed, Cole. This is the battle this whole damn war has been leading up to. Hit them with everything we have, and drive them back to wherever they came from.**_

_**-Lord Terrance Hood."**_


	46. Chapter 46

**This chapter failed to upload earlier. Sorry about that.**

**1720 hours, September 16th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
Akseli Memorial Hospital, Bhaakto City, Equatorial Plains Province, Alluvion**

Pallonis stepped outside of the hospital, rifle at the ready, sweeping for hostiles. He and what was left of the Command Staff had to get away before a second group of Covenant came to finish them off. When he stepped outside, he had expected some remnant of the Turian force guarding the Headquarters to remain. Instead, there was silence.

The parking lot was gone. The bodies of the turians lay where they fell, cut through by energy blades or taken out with precision headshot, their bodies slumped on the ground, or against the cover they had been using moments before. It didn't look like a fight, more like a massacre.

There had been a convoy of armored vehicles stationed nearby, ready to move into action at a moment's notice to evacuate the Command Center or to provide support to the defenders. All that remained were slagged heaps that still glowed with the sickly green aftermath of Covenant anti-tank weaponry. Their dreaded "Fuel Rod Guns."

Grunts and Jackals in black infiltration armor lay where they had fallen, while there were no dead Elites to be found.

Grunts lay dead not in the heeps indicating a massed charge; instead, they laid there in groups of one or two, one carrying a heavy weapon and the other large satchels filled with fuel rods and power cells. They were in excellent cover and could have quickly taken out multiple vehicles before the defenders had time to respond to their position. Pallonis heard the reports of Special Forces grunts but had never seen any before.

Jackals in black armor, and with large helmets that looked like they were excellent for snipers, were dead where they had fallen. Instead of the grunt heavy weapons teams, these ones had fallen more like squads. He recognized the way they'd advanced and fallen, as that of units of infantry that had been cut down mid-stride. Each of them had a Carbine, except for a single one that wielded a longer and bulkier rifle, which Pallonis remembered from briefings as a "beam rifle."

There was an eerie silence as Pallonis and the surviving officers passed the bodies of the company of turian soldiers that had guarded the Hospital. Slaughtered like Vorcha facing Armigers. As he moved in the direction of the manhole that he knew led to the secondary Command Center, he came upon the only dead Sangheili.

Only a single one had been killed during the assault on the exterior of the Hospital. It lay next to a vehicle, some kind of Covenant explosive charge still stuck in its hands. From the way he was holding it, it looked like some sort of shaped plasma charge. Its black armor was tinted with the deep bluish-purple of Elite blood, with a handful of spatters of Turian blood mixed in. Around him lay a dead turian soldier in three pieces. The elite had taken a sniper round to the throat, and still ripped the turian soldier nearest to him apart.

Pallonis was finally coming down from the adrenaline rush of the battle in the Command Center, and as he did, he grew more and more disturbed by the cost of the war. He repressed these feelings, not letting them distract him from his duty, a lot of soldiers depended on him. He continued to lead his guards and officers, moving effectively in impromptu fire teams from position to position, using hand signals, and point to point transmissions for communications. Reflexes drilled since the Turians had been teenagers sprung back to life, and Pallonis could not have been prouder at the discipline.

In the sky, the Coalition's anti-air weapons become more and more erratic as he watched. Lack of direction, of fire support coordination. He wanted to run for the Secondary base, but he had to advance carefully. A single sniper could be their end.

"We don't have much time," Pallonis stated out loud, then turned to his guards. "I want a runner to each battalion headquarters, tell them to prepare for a purely defensive battle. They have to buy time for us to get the surviving civilians off-planet. When the rest of us reach the secondary headquarters, We'll organize a slow defensive retreat towards the Ellana river. Then we can see if the situation can be salvaged. But for that, we need contact with our forces in orbit. We've not been glassed, that means the Covenant doesn't have space superiority yet."

A somber silence descended upon the group, then the turian leading Pallonis's security detail nodded and began handing out orders. It was a younger soldier named Saren. He was just a corporal but was the highest-ranking guard available at this time. The young turian made a series of rapid hand signals, and ten turians soldiers and orderlies broke off from the group, running to the last-known locations of the field Headquarters. Leaving Pallonis, his personal guards, a handful of Turian officers, and a meager handful of human orderlies and lower-ranking officers.

Pallonis really wished he had some other officers of rank to work with. But he was the only general on the planet who had survived the Covenant onslaught, and many Colonels and other high ranking officers were. The Covenant had nearly beheaded the higher levels of command for the Coalition forces on Alluvion. There were going to be a lot of promotions when the fighting was done.

There was the distinct roar of Pelican engines as one of the iconic UNSC gunships flew in at high speed, flipped around to counter-burn, and landed in the tight parking lot, grinding over the tarmac as it set itself down. The ramp dropped, and three figures in thick green armor stepped out, advancing as a fireteam and scouting out the area, making hand signals and gestures that his armor's translation suite could not decipher.

One of them moved up to Pallonis, offering a quick salute. "General Pallonis, Sir. We're Blue Team. NAVSPECWAR. We'll get you to the Secondary Command Center."

"At ease," Pallonis said with a smile. These were the top-secret human Spec Ops forces that their government was so eager to keep a secret. The "Spartans," as the ONI representative, had informed the CEF leaders with the right clearance. Pallonis had the clearance because he commanded elite orbital assault troops, which made cooperation with the Spartans a semi-regular occurrence. Even if this was the first time he ever saw one in the flesh, let alone spoke to one.

One of the Spartans, the one equipped with a Salarian Venom rifle, which had been grotesquely modified to fit human design standards, lifted the manhole cover with one hand, then looked down for movement. The spartan jumped down the hole, yelling out. "Clear!" shortly after impacting the ground.

"After you." The one with "104" printed on his chest piece said.

In exchange for knowledge of the existence of these supersoldiers, the CEF would help keep them a secret, and not inquire into their nature. They would also omit them from any formal reports, news broadcasts, or anything of the sort. The latter had proven a tough sell with the Asari forces, who regularly took reporters along, most of whom also served as commandos.

"I don't trust them. You can't even see their faces." Saren muttered. "Reminds me too much of Bareface."

To their credit, none of the Spartans responded to the remark, instead continuing with their methodical movements and hand signals

"At ease, Saren," Pallonis said. "Blackwatch Operatives have their identities hidden as well. This is just more in-depth."

Pallonis climbed down the ladder, dropping halfway down the climb to land on the concrete below. He could see the Spartan with the Venom opening an unmarked door to a Maintenance area. The former hangar of a group of giant automated sewer-cleaning robots. It had been repurposed as a hidden Command Center in the event the first fell.

Pallonis stepped inside, and what he saw inside was, at that very moment, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

It was a smaller room than the basement of the Hospital, but it would more than suffice. It had Metallic floors polished to a mirror sheen, sleek, utilitarian metal furniture spread around the room in optimal locations. At the center of the room, there was a modest holo-tank, currently in standby mode. Around the holo-table were regular tables, with computers that folded up into suitcases, connected with fiber optics to the holo-table. On one of the walls hung several smaller monitors, perfect for displaying additional data.

In the remotest corner of the room stood seven massive servers, each containing one vital high-capacity Strategic VI's that would collect all the information gathered by the Tactical VI out in the field, with each strategic VI capable of running multiple versions of themselves as processing power was used or cleared up.

Pallonis smiled at the sight. After the loss of his previous Command Center, he was just happy to have something functional.

Even if it was much smaller, and the equipment more utilitarian, it was just good to be back in command. Pallonis didn't waste a breath to get everything operational again.

Guarded by the Spartans, the remaining command staff headed inside, moving to their stations and activating their computers quickly. The silent room began to buzz with the simultaneous running of a dozen portable quantum computers, and even more omni-tools.

Pallonis approached the holo-tank and put his hand on the scanner. His biometrics were verified, and the Holo-tank flickered to life.

**BIOMETRICS VERIFIED: GENERAL PALLONIS OF THE TURIAN HIERARCHY. GENERAL OF THE CEF.  
!WARNING! PRIMARY COMMAND CENTER NOT DETECTED.  
ENGAGING EMERGENCY COMMAND CENTER PROTOCOL**

The whole room was filled with noise as the massive strategic VI's sprung to life, their cooling systems powering up in preparation for the intense usage.

**STRATEGIC VI: ACTIVE  
HOLO-TANK: ACTIVE  
CONNECTION TO REGIMENTAL VI's: CONNECTION COMPROMISED TO UNACCEPTABLE EXTENT. HALF OF ALL REGIMENTAL VI'S DISABLED.  
CONTACTING ALL REMAINING VI's.**

His heart sank. Half the regiments still in the field had either lost their regimental VI's when they couldn't transfer from their portable servers in time, or they had been destroyed alongside the surviving regimental officers that had downloaded the VI into their hardsuits.

**6934 VI ARE STILL ACTIVE. RECONSTRUCTING CHAIN OF COMMAND.**

Pallonis had to pause himself before he collapsed. There had been twenty-thousand soldiers on the planet equipped with VI's before the battle had begun. The losses were horrendous. Almost too much for him. He slammed down hard on that feeling and mentally crushed it. He got back into his strategist mindset, replacing his shock at the loss of so many men, with raw conviction to get the rest out.

Two seconds passed.

**CHAIN OF COMMAND RECONSTRUCTED. INCOMING DATA FROM NEW VI NETWORK.  
UPDATING HOLO-TANK.**

The holo-tank in the center of the room began to fill up with the blinking lights that represented each active Coalition combatants. The city north of the river was still firmly held by the Coalition, with the Covenant content to skirmish around the edges. There were a handful of salients into the northern suburbs, but the defensive lines held firm.

There was an unbroken line of defenses across the expanse of the Ellana river, concentrated at the bridges and any location the river was shallowest and most accommodating for a large scale crossing. There were a handful of armored units operating outside of the city, moving to intercept any Covenant tanks that tried to cross the river further upstream. The remnants of the 6th Scathan had done an admirable job putting up defenses.

But the fighting south of the Ellana river was an absolute disaster. The 101st ODST had lost cohesion across its defensive lines and been concentrated into a series of pockets, linked by sewers, subways, and back alleys between buildings. They were trying to move for the bridges and making progress. Pallonis touched the hologram representing the largest concentration of ODST's and pulled up their casualties. They were climbing. Rapidly.

Pallonis's 13th Legion was cough out of position, with a thousand Turians guarding an approach the Covenant didn't even need to take to advance on the bridges. They would be cut off if they didn't pull back. The remnants of the 8th Marine Regiment was currently broken up into chunks, tagging along with nearby Turian forces, too dispersed to function independently.

Then something interesting popped up. There were twenty Elcor and thirty Asari Commando VI's responding. Apparently, not all the ships that crashed had lost their whole crews. It wasn't enough to have a significant impact on the battle. But he could use those forces for a dire emergency. He bookmarked them on his omni-tool, then continued examining the front. He searched for any locations that were in desperate need of reinforcements, and for areas under light enough pressure that he could move troops around.

Gila Setina spoke up, working her magic on her omni-tool. "I am receiving reports that the BATTLENET is now active again across the front. Covenant jammer signals are going down. Sir, we might actually live through this." She said snarkily.

"Let's not get ahead out ourselves." Pallonis chuckled, then straightened up to address the assembled officers, preparing his orders.

"I need the 13th Legion to pull back, and link up between the forces guarding the crossings, and the 101st ODST to break them from their encirclement," Pallonis said, drawing a series of rapid orders onto the Holographic map. The Strategic VI recognized his command and got to work planning maneuvers and movements to facilitate this, while a communications officer established contact with regimental leaders. As the strategic VI's crunched out the most optimal movements, they were immediately passed on to the leaders on the ground, mostly as a suggested course of action. Pallonis didn't care if the officers under his command deviated from his orders, so long the results were the same.

Pallonis drew a series of smaller movements on the map.

One of the human officers spoke up. "You're missing an opportunity, General." Pallonis glanced at him, recognizing him as First Lieutenant Anderson of the ODST's. The human sounded rude and angry and without a drop of respect for Pallonis. The human drew a line with his finger over the holographic map.

"1st Company of the 101st are some of the finest soldiers in the UNSC. You should put them here." He said, pointing at a crossroads near the main raid through the city. "Then the ODST forces leaving the pocket will face less enfilading fire. See these ruined skyscrapers north of the crossroads? Jackals would wreck our forces if they retreated within the line of sight of those. But if we hold these crossroads, we'll avoid that."

"Excellent suggestion. Get it done. Take what 13th Legion forces you need. Some brigades should still be fresh." Pallonis nodded at Anderson, whose angry facade cracked, and he flashed a grin.

Pallonis glanced at the Strategic VI servers, noting that they were now running at full efficiency, the cooling systems roaring as they fought to keep quantum computers from overheating. To Pallonis, it was the most beautiful sound in the world.

Reports from the Civilian evacuation started flooding in. Pallonis nodded and didn't see anything worth changing. The evacuations would continue at full speed, with the Coalition providing as much time as possible.

It was cold calculus, but each freighter carried away more civilians than the Coalition's elite had left upon the planet, and each of these civilians was a potential worker or soldier for the recovering UNSC. It was deemed vital by the UNSC Security Council that as many humans as possible be evacuated to the Inner Colonies to work for the war effort. While the ODST's were valuable, for both the economic and demographic future of the humans, the CEF would prioritize the evacuation of human civilians over soldiers.

"First Lieutenant Anderson. Can you give me Colonel Williams of the ODST's? I think I can see a Salient forming on the main highway. If his forces can launch a pincer movement in grid 018 by 246, through the tram station hub, we can cut off their advance force. Then attack with our Elcor and Asari forces."

Anderson entered some information into his omni-tool, then paused for a moment. "Colonel Williams is dead, sir, as is much of the ODST leadership. His subordinates report a no-go on that plan. They need to pull back, or the Covenant will roll over them.."

Pallonis sighed. It had been too much to hope for. "Then retreat them like we planned. Congratulations, I think that means you're the highest human officer left on the planet."

"I'm receiving a message from CEF FLEETCOM on a priority channel. The 16th Salarian fleet is approaching the planet at high speed. Two hundred frigates, A hundred cruisers, and a command dreadnought. They are moving to engage the Assault Carrier." Gila Setina suddenly exclaimed, frantically working with her omni-tool, talking with a turian officer near her, about possibly sneaking in some quick orbital bombardment from the Asari fleet. But to no avail. "Their Admiral is saying the UNSC 61st Battlegroup is moving as well."

Pallonis quickly did some mental calculations. The Covenant's assault carrier and three remaining cruisers, while outnumbered, were bigger than any Coalition ships, and had enough firepower to kill dozens of Citadel ships in moments. He was not worried about the battlecruisers, which he knew the Citadel ships could take out with concentrated firepower. He wasn't sure the Salarians would be able to crack its shields before it returned fire. It was going to be bloody.

The real problem was that the Salarians might not be able to effectively kill an Assault Carrier without the MAC guns of UNSC ships. It would take much longer to slowly rip at the outer armor, chew their way through, then perforate the carrier with disruptor torpedoes. Standard Coalition tactics were for The Citadel's rapid firepower to strip the shields from a Covenant ship, allowing for the MAC guns of the UNSC ships to deliver killing blows. But the Covenant had targeted all the remaining UNSC ships in the system when they arrived, destroying their MAC guns with Seraph bombers and pulse laser fire.

"How is the Coalition fleet in orbit?" He asked.

"Twenty Asari warships left, five UNSC ships. Asari ships are combat effective, but the UNSC ships might as well be dead in space. The transport ships are moving away from the fighting."

Pallonis somberly acknowledged that the mistake the Coalition had made was thinking they could quickly rush a fleet of bulk transport ships to a planet and unload its cargo of men and material. The Covenant had taken the opportunity and delivered a crushing defeat. The Coalition would have to rethink the way it deployed the vast Turian garrison forces it had at its disposal.

He noticed the Spartans were still in the room, standing guard at the entrance, as still as statues.

"Spartans. Why are you still here, if I might ask? Don't you have some Covenant ships to destroy single-handedly."

Their leader turned to look at him. "When the Covenant hit you, thousands of soldiers died when they lacked coordination. If that happens again, Alluvion is lost. We're here to prevent that." There were hints of bitterness to the Spartan's voice, something Pallonis could barely register.

Pallonis brought up his omni-tool and commanded the Strategic VI's organizing the Turian BATTLENET to give him a full list of surviving Coalition forces.

**Current forces ground side:  
4194 Turians of the 13th Palavan Legion  
852 Turians of the 6th Scathan Legion  
1152 Humans of the 101st ODST regiment  
502 Humans of the 8th Marine Regiment  
33 Asari Commandos  
19 Elcor Infantry/Tanks**

**Enemy disposition:  
100**

,**000 estimated upon the planet.  
20,000 enaged with Coalition forces.**

There was a painful feeling in his chest as he watched the casualty reports and empty yawning that passed through his body. A third of his Legion had survived. Only a fifth of the human forces upon the planet. While a million soldiers of the 6th Scathan Legion hadn't even made planetfall. It was nothing less than a disaster. But if he pulled back now, the planet was lost. No, they needed to hold until the Covenant could be driven away, and the 6th Scathan reinforcements could adequately land.

"Give me a line to the troops," Pallonis said.

"This is general Pallonis to all Coalition forces fighting for Alluvion. The Covenant have hit us hard, I can not deny that. But we all must perform our duty in the face of these terrible odds.

The final civilian evacuation is still underway, and until then, we can not abandon this planet.

The Covenant has landed in force south of Bhaakto city for one reason: it is the last place upon this planet with a large civilian population. There are still two million civilians hiding in the underground bunkers. And we need to evacuate them.

The Covenant have come to butcher the people of this world. We shall not stand for such atrocities.

Humans. I can not speak for you, but us Turians have sworn an oath to be ready to die for the Hierarchy. We are prepared to die on this day. But I will not make such a choice for you.

I promise that I will be the last of us to leave this planet, or I will die on it."

Pallonis glanced at Gila. "Are any human forces requesting permission to evacuate early?" Some semblance of doubt sneaking into his voice.

She gave him a weak smile. "None."

Pallonis sighed in relief and sat down on a nearby chair, his eyes still locked upon the holo-tank. It took everything he had to maintain his stoic demeanor. But deep down, he just wanted to sob into his hands for the Turians dying under his command. He'd lost soldiers before, but never this many. He could see some of the other turians in the room straining at the pressure. Even the normally resolute Gila was gnashing her teeth and looking like she was holding something back, emotionally. Losing so many soldiers. So many civilians depending on them. The constant xenocidal fighting. Deep down, Pallonis wondered who would be the first of the command staff to snap.

Anderson walked up to Pallonis and sat next to him. "Have you ever lost this many men before?"

Pallonis looked at him, not able to find the right words. He just said "Not in a single battle. Not so fast."

Anderson was quiet, then spoke. "I couldn't imagine losing so many soldiers. But on my first command, most of my ODST's died. It took time, but I learned to live with it. Maybe you should import some of our psychiatrists?" He gave a soft and very respectable chuckle.

Pallonis flashed him a grin, mandibles flaring. "Its about time you humans export something back for a change."

The Command Center laughed, then got back to work. They had lives to save.


	47. Chapter 47

**1728 hours, September 16th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
****Alexander Square, Bhaakto City, Equatorial Plains Province, Alluvion**

After a hasty retreat from their now-compromised position, Ravager Squad, the survivors of 8th Jump Infantry and their human tagalongs stumbled across a Coalition strongpoint in an abandoned restaurant, close to one of the bridges. In there they had found a few surviving turian and human soldiers from a smattering of units, doing their best to hold the Covenant. Nialla's assistance was most welcome - her troops more than doubled the defenders' numbers.

The two-story restaurant, once overlooking a busy intersection, was now important to the Coalition forces as it could cover several approaches at once and thus served as a focal point in a ring of defensive strongpoints around the bridgehead. The defenders had wasted no time in fortifying the place with what they had on hand; from what Nialla could tell, they had a couple of heavy machine guns, snipers posted on the roof and even missile launchers taken off a disabled human vehicle. All those came in handy as the Covenant tried to force their way through, either in penny packets or in massive waves.

"Any luck on getting through to Command?" Nialla asked Socinus, a stocky turian corporal who had been in charge when Nialla and her Ravagers showed up. He was the commander here by right of survival , and he was clearly glad to have finally found someone else to foist the responsibility off on.

"No, ma'am. BATTLENET has been down for over twenty minutes. We've fallen back on local networks. Not a single word from Command," the kid, who Nialla could swear was shorter than even Kelnara, said, his voice cracking for but a moment. He peeked out of cover two times, then ducked back down and fired blindly, spraying and praying. "We can raise the bridge, Lambda-Five and Kappa-Two through Four, but they're pretty busy themselves."

"Thought so," Nialla grumbled as needle rifle rounds shot overhead. She popped out of cover and hosed down a trio of Grunt suicide bombers that charged towards them. Twenty rounds later the area was reprieve wouldn't last long. "Thanks anyway, Corporal."

Gelvod and Gelnis were with her on the ground floor, while Kelnara and Yeltis were upstairs. Yeltis was posted on the roof along with the other snipers, while Kelnara, lacking long-range options, manned an M-170 Thumper heavy machine gun and took to tearing Covenant soldiers apart with HE rounds with gusto, shouting obscenities and other remarks as she did, much to the delight of UNSC Marines. Sergeant Johnson and his marines were helping with perimeter defense, exacting a heavy toll on the Covenant troops.

As the Covenant kept trying to kill her, Nialla was finally able to wrap her head around the way they fought.

Moving in through the tiniest gaps in the Coalition's defenses, the jackals were quick, nimble, and outstanding marksmen. They struck at targets of opportunity with their carbines and needle rifles. The ones with energy shields were more of close range brawlers, getting in close and then using grenades and pistols. The latter were less dangerous, unless properly supported.

The grunts were often used as cannon fodder, and individually they could be dismissed for the most part. However, they made it hard to deal with the real threats. They were also lethal in close quarters, with a hell of a throwing arm, and surprisingly persistent, even brave sometimes. Some of them even tried to suicide-bomb Coalition troops when the push came to a shove.

The true danger however, were the elites - capable of feats of martial skill that put the finest Citadel soldiers to shame. They were also varying in skill, to the extreme. They ranged from overeager Minors, eager for glory and quick to get themselves killed, to utterly merciless and effective killing machines who required whole squads of infantry to take down. The standard response to a white or grey-armored elite was an airstrike.

And when combined, they formed a murderous onslaught that took the best the Turians had to offer, just to slow them down. Grunts attacked en masse to soften up the enemy, making them waste ammunition, while the Jackals used the distraction to get into opportune positions to provide fire support. And then the Elites would come and mercilessly exploit any weaknesses their subjects had exposed. When one added to that the Covenant plasma artillery, vehicles and the Hunters, used as a part of a combined arms force for a change, they became a much more challenging enemy.

There were several ghost and spectre wrecks in the plaza, raging as plasma lines and plastics burned with bright flue fire. The ground was littered by the bodies of fallen Coalition soldiers, gunned down in the initial retreat. Next to them were the bodies of the Covenant Skirmishers who'd been in pursuit, gunned down by hidden machine guns from Socinus's company.

The matte grey streets were started to pool with molten metal and streams of multi-colored blood. The Covenant had fallen in droves, but the majority were merely grunts, easily replaceable. Each fallen Coalition soldier represented years of training and commitment, and would not be so easily replaced. Nialla committed herself

Suddenly, an alert chimed inside Nialla's helmet, a stream of status messages rapidly scrolling down in the corner of her vision.

**COMMAND CONNECTION RESTORED **

**RESTARTING BATTLENET**

**PLEASE HOLD**

**BATTLENET ONLINE **

**REQUESTING SECURITY KEY**

**SECURITY KEY ACCEPTED**

**WELCOME, T. NIALLA, S/N VN080-5401TU-5037107 **

**RANK: SERGEANT**

**CLEARANCE LEVEL: SQUAD**

**!EMERGENCY PROMOTION!: ASSIGNED CO, 8 JUMP INF COY. NO ACTIVE COMPANY LEADERS ON THE ROLL. GRANTING TEMPORARY COMPANY LEVEL CLEARANCE**

**REBOOTING COMMAND-LEVEL BATTLENET: ACCESS GRANTED: COMPANY LEVEL**

**FIRE SUPPORT: READY: COMMUNICATIONS CLEARANCE GRANTED**

**STRATEGIC VI: ACTIVE: ACCESS GRANTED: COMPANY LEVEL**

**STRATMAP: ACTIVE: COMPANY LEVEL**

**REBOOTING COMPANY-LEVEL BATTLENET: ACCESS GRANTED: COMPANY LEVEL**

**TACTICAL VI: ACTIVE: ACCESS GRANTED: COMPANY LEVEL**

**!WARNING! COMPANY TACTICAL VI STORED IN HARDSUIT DUE TO LOSS OF ORIGINAL STORAGE DEVICE**

**CACHING TACTICAL VI IN NEARBY HARDSUITS: STAND BY**

**FOUR VI CACHES CREATED**

**REBOOTING SQUAD-LEVEL BATTLENET:**

**TACNET: ACTIVE: ACCESS: COMPANY LEVEL**

**TACMAP: ACTIVE: ACCESS: COMPANY LEVEL**

**SQUAD VI: ACTIVE: STORED IN HARDSUIT**

**SQUAD TACNET: ACTIVE: ACCESS: FULL**

**SUIT VI: ACTIVE**

**COMMUNICATIONS: ACTIVE**

**DOWNLOAD COMPLETE**

**COMMUNICATIONS STATUS:**

**MESSENGER DRONES: IN RANGE**

**CABLE TERMINALS: N/A**

**SUIT TRANSMITTER: ONLINE, COMMAND UPLINK ESTABLISHED**

**NO JAMMING DETECTED**

**LONG-RANGE COMMUNICATIONS ONLINE**

**FILTERING CACHED MESSAGES**

**ARCHIVING OUTDATED MESSAGES**

**TRANSMITTING RELEVANT MESSAGES**

**1 MESSAGE(S) SENT. CLEARING CACHE**

As the BATTLENET came back online, so did her suit's more network-dependent functions. Immediately her TACMAP was updated with more precise data on the location of all friendly and enemy forces in her sector, with strength and range estimates, more data than she'd ever seen before. Now she understood why officers were so fond of their holotanks in the vids; a company commander processed a whole lot more data than a squad leader, and an omni-tool alone wouldn't cut it, even with the help of the company VI.

After fumbling with the settings for a few seconds, she shunted the TACMAP and STRATMAP feeds to her compad, and not too soon, as Yeltis called in."Boss, I've got eyes on a Covenant attack group. I've got…" the sniper paused for a second, clearly tallying the contacts and recalling the briefings, "a spectre and four ghosts on the southeastern approach, seven hundred meters out, with an infantry screen. Patching you in. Orders?"

True to his words, scores of new contacts sprung up on the TACMAP to the south-southeast. After a second or two of data-crunching the company VI gave her the estimates on enemy strength - an oversized platoon of grunts and jackals and even a few elites - and time of arrival - ninety seconds at most, assuming that the Covenant vehicles stuck with infantry.

"Wait for it, Yeltis, but load hi-ex. I'm calling in some help. You're clear to engage once it arrives," Nialla replied and switched the channels to call in fire support, the VI routing her to the nearest artillery unit available - a heavy mortar battery stationed a couple kilometers away, somewhere on the other side of Ellana.

"Amber-Two, this is Lambda-Three. Requesting fire support at grid 019 by 244, three rounds. The target is a mixed group of infantry and light vehicles, two platoons plus in strength. Transmitting data."

"Roger that, Lambda-Three. Stand by."

Seconds later, the first salvo of 200 mm mortar shells landed in the street, blasting apart the Covenant soldiers caught in the open. Taking that as their cue, the Coalition snipers opened fire as well. The Covenant assault group was stopped dead in its tracks. Surviving grunts and elites scattered and rushed into cover, taking heavy shrapnel or going down for good. The enemy vehicles boosted ahead, trying to get away.

Unfortunately, the turian gunners had staggered their shots so that shells would bracket their targets. The second salvo hit, and one ghost went flying head over heels, the damaged boosters going haywire. The other crashed down in the street, its driver catapulted from his seat by a shell and sniped before he could recover. The spectre was straddled by no less than three shell impacts that shredded its drive pads and sent it careening into a burnt-out building at highway speeds. The two surviving ghosts managed to boost away in time, the third salvo merely peppering them with shrapnel.

The defenders of the outpost opened fire, a veritable wall of metal meeting the ghosts head-on. One of the vehicles disintegrated within seconds, while the driver of the other was stripped of his shields and then his head by several high-explosive rounds.

"Target taken care of, Boss. Switching to targets of opportunity," Yeltis reported in a sing-song voice.

"Bragging about your qualifications again, Yeltis? Carry on," Nialla chuckled. So far, the surviving enemy infantry was still far enough away that they could do nothing more than scatter and take potshots at the defenders, which meant she had time to implement an idea that could increase her forces' effectiveness.

"Johnson, BATTLENET's back up. Patching you into our tactical feeds via your hardsuit," Nialla said, punching in a command into her omni-tool.

Moments later, Johnson's reply came in over the radio, full of faux incredulity. "You turians really need all this stuff clogging up your view? Proper marines only need an aiming reticle!" he said out loud, mirth clear in his voice. Chuckles could be heard in the channel.

"I can shut it off, Johnson." Nialla grinned internally, popping up and shooting a Jackal through the head. She had known its position before she moved thanks to her HUD highlighting its presence behind a wall. Her armor-piercing round went through the thin wall and blew out its brains.

"What. And say no to such a generous gift? From a fine lady like yourself? Hell no!" he said, firing a stream of incendiary rounds at a window the BATTLENET indicated a jackal was hiding behind. With the jackal suppressed, his outline on the HUD had blue stripes appear across it.

Nialla took her chance, and charged forward, grabbing a grenade from her belt and throwing it through the window, then with a mental command, the incendiary grenade exploded mid-air, sending a jet of flame out through the window. She didn't see the jackal die, but it screamed. She gave a mental command, and the stripes turned black. _Assumed dead. _She then used her armor's rockets to shoot herself backwards, landing on her back in the cover she'd used moments before.

One of the human marines, whose ID read "Private Omar Befali," laughed. "Look Sarge, another alien fell for you!" He popped up to lay down suppressive fire, when three Needles slammed into him. He froze, arms in a defensive posture.

"Shit. Barriers. Almost forgot. I can actually survive a few needles," the human muttered in embarrassment at his panicked reaction. "I'm still not used to having armor better than cardboard. What's it like you split-lipped alien fucks!? WE HAVE SHIELDS TOO NOW!." He yelled, half cheer and half battle cry, as he fired on fully automatic to suppress the Covenant advance.

A building in the middle of the contested street suddenly exploded outwards, the dust cloud covering the battlefield, however this did little to impede both sides, their armor's targeting systems effortlessly marking enemies on their HUD's.

"_With great enjoyment:_ **Die. Die. Die. Die**."

An elcor in a full suit of powered armor strode out of a ruined building, his monotone voice booming. It looked like a tank that had gotten tired of being shot up by the infantry, and had grown arms to punch them. On the back of the elcor was a huge mass-accelerator with two barrels the size of Nialla's arm. Each of these blasted out a stream of high explosive rounds, while the elcor waddled forward. On each of its arms the elcor had a rapid-fire mass accelerator, which it used for precision as it moved, and a flamethrower that it used to spray down buildings concealing snipers.

"_With barely restrained inappropriate glee_: **SUCK. ON. THIS.**"

The cover the Covenant was using was quite literally blown away by the elcor, driving them back as its guns ripped through barricades, vehicle wrecks, or punched holes through the sides of buildings. Nialla's hud marked him as "Private-equivalent Delnerro."

A grunt screamed from its hiding place and ran at the elcor, foaming at the mask and screeching. The elcor ponderously turned to look at the grunt, and reached for its head. It tightened its grip and lifted the grunt up, squeezing as it did. Then, with casual dismissal, the elcor let go of the now-headless corpse. It turned back towards the Covenant, raising its bloody hand, and firing the mass accelerator mounted on it at the Covenant forces across the street.

"Holy shit. I love these guys!" Private Passalaqua yelled. "Living tanks! You're my new best friend, buddy!"

"_With proud concern and more than a little amusement_: Stay with me, humans. Kill their anti-tank troops." The Elcor moved towards Sergeant Johnson's squad, laughing boisterously as it continued to provide covering fire. The humans chuckled and cheered over the COM.

With the BATTLENET back online, the Coalition forces fought with a new coordinated fury, their precision fire exacting a heavy toll upon the Covenant advance. Cover might as well have not existed for the Covenant, as any elite that tried to sneak closer to the defenders through a building, would quickly be spotted by heat sensors, and buried alive. They may have been outnumbered, but they made excellent use of the buildings for cover, and were forcing the Covenant to pay for each inch of ground.

Gelvod had holstered their Phaeston rifles, and were lugging the chaingun of a human warthog into position, propping it up with rubble. Gelvod squeezed off precision bursts that turned whatever Covenant they hit into Chunky salsa, while Gelnir spotted with his Hardsuit's sensor modules. He also helped feed the belt-fed weapon with a constant stream of ammunition.

Another pack of grunts swarmed forward, as jackal snipers in hidden locations emerged from cover and began laying down covering fire with their carbines. Three humans and two turians dropped, clutching wounds and screaming in pain. An elite carrying a heavy plasma turret opened fire from the roof of an abandoned building, lying down and suppressing the defenders, forcing Johnson and his squad into cover, and killing the only one marine who still had a functional rocket launcher. Socinus fell, clutching a chunk of his chest armor that had melted under the barrage, and fused to his skin. His almost teen-like screams of pain filled Nialla with a violent bloody resolve.

"Yeltis, Jackals. Kelnara, Elite. Twins, take down those grunts." She calmly said over SQUADCOM. She had no doubt in her mind about the skill of her Armigers.

Yeltis immediately shifted his aim, his formerly cheerful demeanor replaced with cold determination. The jackal snipers had been marked by the sensors of the hardsuits whose owners they had killed, and Yeltis knew exactly where to shoot. Each armor-piercing round punched through thin masonry and sheet metal walls, and one by one the guns went silent.

Kelnara leapt from cover and engaged her tactical cloak, disappearing from sight as she darted across the street, towards the building the Elite with the plasma turret was occupying.

Gelvod, Gelnis, and Nialla all fired a cryo blast at the oncoming grunts, freezing a dozen of them in place, and forcing the ones behind to stumble into or around their frozen comrade. Gelvod's chaingun then let rip, ripping through the grunts in explosions of ice, blood, and meat.

Movement from the rooftop caught Nialla's attention, and she turned to look. Kelnara had snuck up behind the elite and put her shotgun to the back of its head, blowing its brains out through the window. She'd picked up the plasma turret and was now firing it back at the Covenant. "Choooooooooooke ooooooooooon iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!" She screamed as the heavy turret sook in her hands as she moved. She used her thrusters to boost across the street and land back with Gelvod and Gelnis, offering them the turret, which Gelnis took from her hands and examined.

A message went out to all Coalition soldiers in the city, and the gruff voice of General Pallonis filled their ears again. "All forces, be advised, Covenant forces moving into the city are doubling in size. Stand your ground. The civilian evacuation is nearly complete."


	48. Chapter 48

**1200 hours, September 16th, 2542  
Private dining chamber, Covenant supercarrier **_**Through Moonlight Reflection Upon This Faithful Odyssey Do We Find Salvation From This Universe Of Sin, In Which We Have Been Shackled **_**(abbreviation: **_**Moonlight Reflection**_**), low Chi Rho orbit, Ectanus 45 system**

Shiala was in trouble.

The Asari Commando had been in the process of infiltrating a Covenant base when she was captured by the guards. The last thing she remembered was an ambush by Elites wielding red-colored energy swords. Her thermographic scanners saved her life, and for the next few minutes she'd been engaged in a running gunfight before her enemies drove her into a corner. She'd managed to plug an Elite with a burst of warp rounds from her carbine and pulp the torso of another with a biotics-empowered punch before a grenade went off, disabling her armor and putting in some kind of stasis. She had been stripped of her weapons, gagged and fitted with some sort of neural restraint device - not only made it her movements feel very sluggish, it also almost completely disabled her biotics somehow - a side effect, perhaps? Her powers evidently scared the Covenant, as besides Grunts feeding her using some kind of nipple-like device, she had been kept in total isolation in a rather sparse cell. They didn't even strip her of armor, merely removing all power sources they could identify.

Then, one day, she woke up to a stun grenade blast. was blindfolded picked up by two pairs of strong arms and dragged out of her cell and through what felt like a hallway. She carefully listened to footsteps and her own heartbeat, counting each second. This had been her fourth day of captivity, and she had yet to find a way to commit suicide. Her suicide capsules - including the one in her tooth - had been taken, and she'd not yet found a sharp object to use. Running off the auxiliary power cells, her armor was almost out of power and soon would be little more than dead weight. Still, she did not give away any discomfort she might be experiencing. The neural restraint collar and her missing biotic amp limited her options significantly, sure, but she would try to resist in any way she could.

Then the blindfold was removed, and she found herself standing in an antechamber before a large door. Her guards let go of her and took their position at the doorway.

The door slid open and in stepped a tall, muscular Elite who wore a deep purple robe that covered a yellow suit of armor. The two guards saluted the newcomer and stiffened up. He clearly was a highly esteemed figure.

"My name is Thel 'Vadamee, and you will be my guest," he spoke before ushering her into the elaborately furnished chamber beyond.

"Sit," the newly-named Thel 'Vadamee instructed, guiding Shiala towards an ornate chair opposite his own. It was made of a beautiful deep brown lumber with a pattern that almost seemed alive. The chair had been inlaid with beautiful ivory and decorated with intricate carvings. The tableware was made of what looked like silver and marked with symbols that Shialla could not recognize.

This had not been what she had expected. Was she a guest? The Covenant didn't take humans prisoner, and she had no reason to believe they would treat those standing beside humans any differently, so why did they make an exception? For a brief moment, fears of being a trophy wife to the Fleetmaster played through her mind, but she squashed them. She'd kill herself before that happened.

The Fleetmaster sat down on the chair across from Shiala, then clapped his hands twice. A large door opened, briefly revealing a vast kitchen area filled with what had to be dozens of Elites - and only Elites - creating meals, the scent for a moment taking Shiala out of her worries. Through the doorway came the first Elite the commando had ever seen wearing what could be described as "formal wear." He had no visible armor and wore thick burgundy robes, carrying a tray in each hand. He moved to the table and placed a tray, covered by an opaque energy shield, in front of each of them, then pressed a button on each tray, and the shield domes disappeared. Shialla was instantly overwhelmed by an almost divine scent, the most delicious scent she had ever experienced. There were large chunks of sliced meats arranged in an intricate pattern, carefully prepared with oils and spices and complemented by a wide selection of what she thought were greens. Next to the food was a bowl with some type of soup and a bowl of water.

Before her eyes, the waiter cut out a small slice of the food himself and ate it. Shialla surmised it was to test for poison. The Elite then spoke, "You are to clean your hands before you eat," before taking a pyramidal bottle from the table and filling the glasses that had been set. He sounded courteous, friendly even.

Shiala looked at the food with some confusion, then raised an eyebrow at Thel 'Vadamee. "Why haven't you killed me yet?"

The Elite gave her a somewhat unsettling facsimile of a grin."If I wanted you dead, you would be. I rarely invite a defeated opponent to feast with me, but slaying a Silent Shadow is an admirable feat, especially for a female. Now eat." With these words, the Elite took a long silver spike and speared a slice of the meat, dipping it in the bowl of soup, carefully turning it around and then eating it.

Shialla grinned as she thought back to the singular ambusher she had been able to kill for certain, ripping him apart with biotic might. So, she mimicked the Fleetmaster, determined to get the most out of this particular exchange. And she could use the energy. "And I am rarely invited to dinner by an enemy officer, Admiral 'Vadamee. It is not a luxury I had expected to receive."

"Fleetmaster," Thel 'Vadamee corrected. "Now, I am sure you have many questions. You are my guest, and I will answer them."

"I do. Why are you inviting me to a special feast while you kill all humans on sight? " Shialla took a sip of her wine, instantly noticing the outstanding flavor. It was creamy, flavorful, and there was just the right amount of bitterness that added to the taste. There was also a soft warmth to the drink, a bite on the way down. It was absolutely amazing, and she had to fight back the urge to not gulp it all down. "What is the difference between us and them?"

The Fleetmaster let out a noise that Shialla took to be mild annoyance. "The humans are a cursed species, damned for their blasphemous actions against the gods, actions so foul I will not speak of them at this meal. Suffice to say, your species has not been declared lost by the Hierarchs, or even to be against the faith. You are an outsider, not a heretic, and therefore you deserve the treatment all Sangheili give honorable females, especially fierce warrior women like yourself."

Shialla Vasir wished she could inform the Citadel Council of what she had just learned The fact they were open to some form of dialogue with the races of the Citadel was useful. Perhaps it could be an avenue for peace or even just some measure of negotiations. Noticing that the Fleetmaster was really getting into his speech, she decided to try to sneak one of the knives below her armguard.

"So. What do you believe will happen to the other races of the Citadel if we are not heretics," Shiala asked cautiously.

"We do not know much about your races or worlds. Your operational security is formidable, as well as the commitment of your soldiers. So far not a single stealth operative we've captured has broken under interrogation, preferring to commit suicide when possible. Your soldiers in the field fight with honor and commitment, dying on their feet. This is always admirable, even if it's done for the wrong cause. Battles against turians are the kind of glorious struggle we Sangheili are bred for. The kind that forge great empires and unify a people in purpose." There was a pause. "The humans will be destroyed for their sins, and then we will decide how to integrate you into the Covenant, be it by conquest or by entering a tributary relationship."

"You believe co-existence as equals is not possible?" Shiala asked. "Your government seems to have a fixation on conquering or destroying anyone they come across. Why is this?"

The Elite waited a few seconds before responding, sounding as if he was repeating something he'd rehearsed. "The Covenant was formed to unite the Galaxy in following the path of the gods and to head towards glorious salvation. To not bring other races into the fold if they are righteous or not destroy them if they are wicked would be akin to admitting defeat. That is unacceptable. Your race will be brought into the Covenant."

"Has the Covenant ever discovered another starfaring civilization?" Shiala asked.

"None that weren't deemed unclean."

"Then what are the asari, turians, the salarians? What do you classify us as?"

Thel 'Vadamee took another bite of the carefully prepared meat then sipped his wine. "No verdict of damnation has been declared against your race, so you will not be purged like the humans. If such a verdict is passed down to me, your people will be cleansed."

"And what will happen to me?" Shialla asked, subtly

Thel looked at her with a gaze that could bring grown a krogan to their knees. "I will execute you for trying to pocket a knife."

The game was up. Shiala leapt to her feet, expending the energy she'd been carefully conserving and leapt towards the Fleetmaster, knife at the ready.

Blurring back, the Elite drew his energy sword and cut her head off in one fluid motion.

**1745 hours, September 17th, 2542  
Fleetmaster's Sanctum, Covenant supercarrier Through Moonlight Reflection Upon This Faithfull Odyssey Do We Find Salvation From This Universe Of Sin, In Which We Have Been Shackled (abbreviation: Moonlight Reflection), low Chi Rho orbit, Ectanus 45 system**

Fleetmaster Thel 'Vadamee stepped inside his private sanctum. He was somewhat grumpy about having to interrupt the first proper meal he'd had in the weeks since he'd began preparing his master plan. Commanding the collective might of a Ministry was utterly exhausting, and it was starting to grate at the Fleetmaster.

Truth had been somewhat troublesome so far. Ordering attacks that seemed to function little purposes for the first few weeks of the arrival of the Citadel races. This had changed when the scale of the threat became apparent, and Thel was given the freedom to do what he needed to win.

In the center of Thel's room was a single small holographic emitter build into a small table. The Fleetmaster moved to touch the device, then kneeled before it as a holographic image of the Hierarch Truth appeared.

"Fleetmaster. I thought my forces were in safe hands when I gave you full command of your forces. So when my agents reported to me of your order to mass all the ships of the Ministry of Resolution to a single former human world, while only waging limited offensives against this "Citadel," I was quite reluctant to believe them at first. But evidently, it's true. Explain your plan."

Thel blinked at the uncharacteristic anger in the San'Shyuum voice. "Noble Hierarch. I simply lack the ships and the logistics I need to wage war on the scale we have found ourselves in. I have pulled my forces back and consolidated them in this system to avoid defeat in detail. I am constructing a new supply base for the fleet, so our overstretched supply lines do not become easy pickings for enemy raiders."

It pained Thel to admit, but the gross numerical superiority of the Citadel forces allowed them more strategic options than the Covenant, whose numbers were stretched by existing commitments, or by bureaucratic inertia. The Citadel struck his lines wherever a point of weakness developed and exploited it ruthlessly to cut his capital ships off from their supply lines, before crushing them with overwhelming numbers. It had taken weeks of meticulous planning, reassignments, and more than a few executions to reorganize the command structure of the Ministry of Resolution to combat the new threat. It had taken several crushing defeats before the disparate factions of the Covenant forced under his command had finally started listening. Thel had presided over the most substantial Covenant ship losses in centuries. The Covenant, in all honesty, was not equipped for defensive warfare on a strategic level, they just did not have experience with it. The Covenant military was built to expand, not to hold the line. The Ministry of Resolution did not have enough ships to guard the entirety of the front, which let the enemy breakthrough and strike the weaker Covenant supply lines, or isolate his stronger vessels. So far, he'd only launched limited offensives, small raids to test new tactics and stratagems for his warriors. He had superior ships, and he knew how to use them. In their retreat, the Covenant would leave nothing the humans could use. He would have done more, if not for the other Ministries pulling out of the war, content to let the Ministry of Resolution carry the burden.

He nodded at the Hierarch. "The forces of the Ministry of Resolution alone simply do not suffice for a front this vast, and so far from our supply lines. I need at least five hundred more ships to be able to effectively guard against enemy intrusions behind our lines, and be able to launch offensives at the same time. I can not hold the space conquered since the start of the war, and wage offensive wars at the same time. I must beseech you to grant me more ships."

Truth looked conflicted. "There are no more ships available, Fleetmaster. You will have to suffice with what you have available." Truth said, his voice dripping with a mixture of anger and frustration, utterly devoid of any compassion. "When the war turned against us, many of the more opportunistic Ministries pulled out, and I can not command them to return. The Sangheili fleets are clustering in the sectors around Sanghelios, while the other Ministries are keeping their forces in reserves, or on other parts of the border. I am negotiating for the assistance of more Ministries, but this will take time."

"What about the Ministry of Fervent Intercession? The Long Night of Solace is ready, is it not?"

"They are chasing legends of the Maethrillian, hallowed be Faber's works. Unless you found any relics, they will refuse to assist."

"What about the Ministry of Preservation or the Ministry of Concert? They have standing fleets, but no territory of their own." Thel was beginning to feel anger burning in his chest at the political machinations that were hamstringing the Covenant.

Truth snarled. "That will be more difficult than expected. The Ministress of Conversion convinced Concert to refuse to interfere until a full verdict has been made on the future of the Citadel races, and they have formed a power block which is railing against me, demanding a re-examination of the Humans status as heretics. And the Minister of Preservation is zealously hoarding his fleets after Concert tried to absorb his Ministry last year."

Thel repressed his desire to break the nearest piece of furniture at the political posturing. The Sangheili were dying because the San'shyuum could not make up their minds. "But the humans are heretics! They destroyed sacred relics!" Thel blurted out. "Surely, to question such a thing is heresy!"

Truth snorted. "Conversion is citing the absolution of the crimes of the Lekgolo and demanding a great conclave to decide the purity of both the Humans and the Citadel races. This is within her rights as Ministress of Conversion."

Thel paused for a moment, his mind racing as he thought of anyone who could help him to win the war. Then the answer came upon him, a large fleet not currently assigned to any missions. Then answered. "What about Imperial Admiral Xytan? His forces are technically under our Ministry, are they not? With him, we could guarantee victo-"

"Absolutely not." Truth stated. "Xytan is where he needs to be. We still need to guard our borders, and that is what his forces are best used for. I do, however, have something else I can provide you with. I've read your reports about the way the Demons have been used against you and thought of a way to defend ourselves from them when they launch their inevitable attacks on the Assembly Yards."

Thel nodded. The Human's preference for deploying their demons to strategic locations like those the Assembly yards represented was starting to circulate amongst Covenant commanders, and Thel had been preparing the Assembly Yards to defend against them. He'd stationed some of his best Spec Ops in cloaked corvettes, ready to counter-deploy wherever the demons struck. But the kind of special forces that could be deployed against the "Spartans" were rarely available in high numbers.

Truth gave a cheeky grin. "I am sending seven squads of the Silent Shadow to join your forces, as well as some of my personal ships to assist. There is great wisdom in your plan. When your plan comes to fruition, either we'll force a confrontation on our terms, or we defeat the enemy in detail. With the humans destroyed, we can decide how to deal with the Citadel."

"Hierarch?" Thel said. "Have there been any discoveries about our new opponents? I can hardly fight them if I know so little. I know their races, rough estimates of their tactics, the numbers they field. But that is all. I am receiving reports of some type of blue mammalian race that wield demonic powers against our forces, stoic avian warriors fighting a war to the knife, dying before they retreat, massive mammalian tank-like creatures with cannons on their backs, and amphibians that slip through our lines and leave naught but destroyed equipment and cut throats. This, and the fact they are not damned like the Humans, confuses me."

"No, Fleetmaster. We know dreadfully little about this "Citadel." From what the High Council of Masters has gathered, all we know is that they appeared above the human world of New Milan, incorporated their forces with those of the humans. Fear not, however, their technology does not match ours, and the grace of the gods is with us. We will win this war, and the banner of the Covenant will fly above their Homeworlds soon enough."

The Fleetmaster nodded. The hologram turned off.

Thel made a hand gesture and called up a large holographic map of the front. No reinforcements were coming, so he'd have to make do with what he had.

**1729 hours, September 19th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
Coalition High Command War Room, Ring B, New Ghent Station Alpha**

Cole felt his new Fleet Admiral medals weighing him down as he overlooked the holographic map of the Invasion corridor. Fleet Admiral Karandis stood across from him, discussing a logistical matter with one of his officers. Cole tuned out the noise all around him, honing his attention to a fine edge, and focussing it all upon the holographic map. He tried to imagine just what his counterpart on the Covenant was thinking, his plans and movements.

He made a motion with his hand to raise the flat holographic map and to give him a three-dimensional overview of the front.

The Covenant invasion corridor was like a dagger that had been driven into the human sphere, from which extended dozens of "roots" that had spread out and hit many of the former worlds of humanity. The tip of this dagger had been blunted and pushed back to the old frontier between the inner and the outer colonies, where the fighting had slowed down as the Covenant recovered from the sudden intervention of the Citadel's fleets. Operation: CRUSADER had been a success in that aspect. Cole magnified this area, observing the irregular pattern of front, the way it looked jagged in places, with a handful of salients sticking out into either the Coalition or the Covenant's side of the border.

"Dove. Highlight all reported Covenant attacks for me." He said to his personal AI, which jumped into life on the holotank, causing a few of the Turians to visibly grimace at his presence. The Citadel races didn't have good experiences with artificial intelligence but did not protest officially to the UNSC's usage of them. So far, the UNSC's AI assigned to Coalition High Command tended to work behind the scenes, crunching the zettabytes of information that streamed in from across the Comm Buoy networks.

Dove's avatar held up a hand, and the locations of the Covenant raids lit up. Thirteen worlds had been hit by the Covenant to some extent the last week, raided by Covenant warships, or even partially glassed. But it all looked like opportunistic attacks. At least, on the surface. Cole thought back to Karandis's realization that the Covenant was targeting drop-certified forces, and tried to connect this to some overarching Covenant battle plan.

"Did you notice something, Cole?" Karandis asked, putting his signature on a requisition form carried by one of the turian officers. The Fleet Admiral was feverishly at work managing his subordinates and attachés in preparation of the planned attack on Chi Rho.

"There is something about the tactics used by the Covenant that is perplexing me, but I can't quite put the finger on it." Cole reached for one of the worlds and pulled the hologram closer. "Dove. Show me the last known positions of Covenant ships."

The AI leaped up onto one of the holographic planets, sat down, and sent out a flock of white doves that transformed into markers of Covenant ships. They were spread equally across the front. There was nothing about what he saw that looked out of the ordinary. That was when an idea came upon him.

"Only show me their capital ships."

Most of the markers blinked out of existence, leaving only forty-nine Covenant ship sightings on their side of the front. There was still no pattern, nothing that correlated to the human worlds that had been attacked.

"Calculate the distance between the two closest formations, then extrapolate the positions of theoretical Covenant forces, at the same distance from each other. Assume they are going for equal coverage."

A network of markers appeared across the front, the markers representing theoretical ships a bright shade of pink. They were spread across the front in a lattice, almost like a net that was containing human space. This was unsurprising, and not something Cole could work with. But there was still something off. The attacks on human worlds seemed to be picked at random, mere opportunistic attacks. But the Covenant Fleetmaster Thel 'Vadamee wasn't random, was he? There had to be another even bigger picture to what he saw.

That or the stimulants in Cole's coffee had finally begun to melt his brain. He took a swig from a cup that stood nearby, not seeing anyone who'd claimed it. The cup was cold, but the rush of energy shot through him all the same.

"Highlight Covenant carriers, then connect them to the nearest worlds that were attacked last week."

Seven markers lit up, each connected to several reported attacks. But it still looked like there were gaps in what he was seeing. No real pattern was starting to emerge. Then an idea struck him.

"Dove, were any of the reported attacks different from any of the others?"

There was a pause.

"Captain, three of the reported attacks were Special Ops raids." Three lines lit up, each connected to a different carrier. Still no correlation.

Cole leaned forward and took stock of the situation. Special Ops raids upon human worlds were relatively rare, but high-risk affairs. He started to suspect that there was more to those three random events. "Dove, search through all known industrial accidents that had even the slightest effect on military production or supply lines, show me those that could theoretically have been sabotage."

Karandis looked Cole over with a scrupulous eye. "Fleet Admiral, perhaps you should rest? You're looking for-" The turian stopped when he saw the new lines forming, each of them connecting to a carrier. While a few lines were unconnected, the majority converged quite evenly to a carrier each. To the trained eye of a strategist, the picture was clear, the carriers were located in the perfect position to hit multiple worlds with special forces. The Covenant was using their carriers in a new way, as platforms for stealth raids upon human space. It could explain the way the Covenant knew precisely when to attack Alluvion. They must have had a cloaked ship in the system. "Well, I'll be… Dove, add theoretical carriers to create an optimal deployment pattern but keep the numbers in line with known Covenant fleet dispositions. Add twenty percent to total tonnage to account for reinforcements and consolidation."

Two markers representing carriers lit up, which, when connected to what looked like isolated attacks, quickly filled in the gaps of the puzzle.

Cole said. "We've gotten too complacent with the Covenant. We should have looked at the larger picture, at what the Covenant could theoretically do. The attacks on Fair Meadow and Alluvion, the raids, and sabotage actions behind the lines. I think we're dealing with more than just opportunistic strikes at priority targets. This is a new Covenant paradigm. Dove, show the Covenant fleet positions again, show theoretical ships the same way as normal ones."

The holographic map changed to show the Covenant ships positioned across the front in the form of what had to be clusters of at least a dozen ships each, from these the Covenant would be in an excellent position to attack targets of opportunity. Then there were the Carriers, each of them positioned so that the Covenant could launch Special Ops attacks across the entirety of the border of the Inner Colonies, and at the center, Chi Rho, with the vast bulk of the Covenant fleet.

"We're not dealing with competent Covenant shipmasters hitting targets of opportunity, we might be dealing with a massive coordinated battle plan," Cole said, bringing up force deployment statistics. "The Covenant are using their fastest ships to engage our numerically superior forces in delaying actions, while looking for weaknesses to exploit, forcing us to dedicate a much larger portion of our fleet to stop them from slipping past our lines and wreaking havoc. We also need increased garrisons in the event of Covenant Special Ops launching attacks upon vulnerable worlds. The Covenant is avoiding fights, and instead trying to get behind our lines."

Karandis grumbled. "It looks like they just copied our own tactics, but modified them to suit their ship types."

"Karandis," Cole said. "Order your fleets to engage the Covenant instead of moving around them. You need to keep them pinned on the back foot. That way, we can safely pull forces away from other theatres of operation. Keep our other forces thin. We'll need as many ships for Chi Rho."

**1200 hours, September 23th 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
War Room, Aboard Covenant Supercarrier: Through Moonlight Reflection Upon This Faithfull Odyssey Do We Find Salvation From This Universe Of Sin, In Which We Have Been Shackled. In orbit of Chi Rho, Ectanus 45 system.  
Battle Abbreviation: Moonlight Reflection.**

"They did not take the bait," Thel stated as he looked at the strategic map of the human sphere. The Coalition had not taken advantage of the weaknesses in the Covenant lines and was instead directly engaging the smaller fleets Thel had deployed in order to harass the humans. It was drawing off less ships than he would have preferred. Not so few that his Chi Rho buildup could be stopped, but enough that it gave him second thoughts about what to do. He had to deplete his enemies more to stack the deck in his favor.

The assembled lesser fleet masters of the Ministry of Resolution were in the room, waiting for his next command. Thel had personally executed seven shipmasters for chasing glory and had their heads placed on spikes in between where the fleet masters had assembled. The message had been conveyed quite effectively.

"Combine the border fleets into small raiding forces, up to twenty ships at most, and have them graze the borders of the humans. Use your faster escort and wolf-pack ships for this, they can match the Citadel in speed. Focus on inflicting as many casualties as possible upon their border forces. Avoid contact with larger forces. I want ship kills, not glassed worlds. Do -not- engage the larger forces behind their lines, merely attack their forward elements, then pull back."

**1729 hours, September 25th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
Fleet Admiral Cole's private quarters, Ring B, New Ghent Station Alpha**

Cole bit back a yawn and looked at the holographic map of the Coalition's defensive lines. There were eighteen confirmed reports of Covenant fleets targeting and hunting down the Forward Expansion Forces that operated on the borders. The Covenant had stopped trying to break through to the human worlds behind the Coalition lines. They were going for ship kills. It was surprisingly restrained for Covenant tactics, but it was to be expected with the way Thel 'Vadamee had acted so far. The Elite's moves were calculated in a way no other Covenant force had been so far.

Karandis stood in the door opening, mandibles fluttering as he examined the incoming after-action reports. The Covenant was exacting a heavy toll upon the Turian ships, nearly triple that since the Citadel intervention had started. The Turian shipyards outproduced the losses, but it was a sobering realization nevertheless. The Turian Fleet Admiral was as impassive as when Cole had first met him. But there was definitely something bright missing in the Turian, which had been replaced by steely determination. There was little the Coalition could do, except increase patrol sizes, and continue to keep countering the Covenant wolf packs until the battle for Chi Rho.

"Cole. I've received word from the Hierarchy. The CEF will be ready for a full-scale deployment to Chi Rho upon December 5th. But R&D has developed something they think can even the odds. They think it's a game-changer. I came to tell you personally because, to be frank, you look like you need some good news."

Cole leaned forward, eager to hear what the Turian had to say.

The Turian activated his Omni-Tool and showed a hologram of what looked like archer missiles. "Your ONI Eezonic Materials Group found a way to use a directed warp field to disable one of the plasma torpedo cores discovered inside the Battlecruiser on New Ghent. Palavan is shipping thousands of extra disruptor torpedoes to New Ghent as we speak. These modified torpedoes can disperse a plasma torpedo if they manage to hit one center mass."

Realization shot through Cole. It felt too good to be true. "Are you saying we finally have a way to intercept a plasma torpedo?"

"Yes, we do." Karandis grinned.


	49. Chapter 49

**1815 hours, September 16th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
Akseli St/Landing Ave intersection, Bhaakto City, Equatorial Plains Province, Alluvion**

The Coalition forces fought a desperate fighting retreat, giving ground inch by inch as the Covenant pressed their advantage. Grunts kept attacking in waves, and the increasingly frequent attacks left behind so many bodies that Nialla could swear Elites and Jackals would soon be able to take cover behind the corpse piles. The city all around them echoed with weapons fire.

They'd had to fall back once the enemy was able to spare some artillery to shell them. Bombardment was short-lived thanks to Coalition counter-battery fire, but the damage had been already done. Gradually, the entire defense line had shrunk in on itself as the Coalition forces pulled back across the river… or fell to the Covenant. Not too long ago, powerful explosions signaled that Nialla's neighbors to the east were overrun, the few survivors triggering the stay-behind "presents" they'd set up and proceeding to punch through to the bridge. At least the newly-created walls of rubble slowed the Covenant down.

It wasn't all bad news, however. Surviving Coalition troops from the southern suburbs and beyond continued to trickle to the bridge in squad- and platoon-sized groups. Some survivors stuck with Nialla, bolstering her ad-hoc force. Command even sent some "special assets" her way; they turned out to be a trio of asari commandos whose ship had been shot down over the city. Their biotics had helped immensely against the increasingly heavy assaults the Covenant were launching.

At least they weren't being shelled for the moment, though Nialla guessed that would only last as long as Coalition still had air cover.

In the corner of her eye, Nialla could see a pair of Hunters engaged in an artillery duel of sorts with Private Delnerro. The gestalt creatures declined from getting into close range where asari commandos could figuratively and literally dismantle them with their biotics, instead opting to take potshots at the resident elcor. The tactic was paying off as the enemy infantry closed in.

Entire squads of blue-armored Elites, led by their red-armored compatriots, leapfrogged from one piece of cover to another; while one squad was on the move, another provided covering fire. The Coalition defenders had to keep their heads down as plasma bolts and carbine rounds whizzed overhead, punctuated with an occasional assault cannon blast. Nialla heard environmental alarms blare in her helmet; she was starting to feel the heat as plasma bolts splashed on her kinetic barriers. Then she had to drop back down into cover as a carbine round breached them. She'd been just a second too slow, however, and she registered a mild burning feeling as a follow-up shot clipped her arm. Nialla suspected that the result would be far worse than melted armor and damaged myomers if the arm had still been flesh and blood.

Gelnis and Gelvod seemed unfazed by the odds. The twins kept firing at the advancing aliens until their weapons overheated, then swapped them for the rifles they'd picked up from fallen soldiers at some point and continued firing. They fought in complete silence, their movements almost mechanical.

"Sergeant," Gelvod said, dropping back into cover, "we should begin pulling back."

Gelnis added to his brother's statement, finishing off a wounded Grunt, "Our position is compromised. Considering the enemy troops, the main Covenant force is likely already approaching."

As if to punctuate his statement, a series of explosions thundered in the distance, in the southwesterly direction. This could only mean one thing, and Nialla frantically checked the TACMAP again. She noted that the main Covenant advance was just over half a kilometer away from them, still moving up the main highway as they cleared away the remaining Coalition armor. Even the near-constant bombardment by Coalition artillery didn't seem to stop them long enough, which meant that soon the Covenant would overrun those still remaining on this side of the Ellana river. She made a decision.

Then a message appeared on her HUD, dispelling the last doubts she had.

**LAMBDA-3, BRIDGEHEAD EVACUATION COMPLETE. BE ADVISED LAMBDA-5 HAS BEEN OVERRUN, NO SURVIVORS. EXTRACT IMMEDIATELY - IOTA-2**

"Across the river, everyone! I need these Hunters out of our way!" Nialla barked into the radio.

"On it," was Yeltis' curt reply. Seconds later, he opened fire; Nialla poked her head out and zoomed in just in time to see the rounds spark off the Hunters' armor to little effect. As soon as they pivoted and returned fire, a blue streak lanced out, resolving into an asari commando who immediately launched a singularity. Immobilized, the Hunters finally fell to a fusillade of high-explosive shells from Delnerro's cannons. The Covenant infantry promptly hit the dirt as the quadruped turned his wrath on them, and the Coalition soldiers made a break for it. The elcor turned to follow them, his armor forcing his body to move faster than was comfortable.

"_With great consternation: _This is very painful," Delnerro intoned as he broke into a slow, uneven gallop and his back-mounted turret traversed to face behind the retreating soldiers, laying down covering fire.

The Ellana river was a hundred meters wide, and the bridge was only two hundred meters away, but that seemed like a continent away as Nialla's rag-tag command, barely over a platoon strong, leapfrogged down the street, the Covenant hot on their heels. A few more transponders vanished from the TACNET.

Then a missile salvo streaked over their heads and detonated amidst their pursuers, followed by a handful of heavy caliber shells. Looking up, Nialla saw a squadron of Coalition armor move around the corner ahead. The group consisted mostly of human Scorpion tanks, but there was also one of those house-sized, six-wheeled personnel carriers the humans were unreasonably fond of and a couple of Jiris IFVs. All of them sported heavy damage, with armor scorched, warped, melted and even outright missing in some places. Still, the vehicles were functional enough to turn the charging Covenant infantry into dust. They stopped for a moment, idling, as if waiting for something.

"They're waiting for us to climb on. They're saying the troop carriers are full, so tanks it is," Sergeant Johnson said, and he and his marines promptly over towards the nearest tank, climbing onto its drive bogies. The other humans followed suit as the turian soldiers with them looked at this bizarre display dubiously. After a couple seconds, the desire for survival won out, and the Citadel troops clambered atop the vehicles as well.

"Haven't ridden on tanks before, catfaces?" a human, one Corporal Petrova, chuckled as the armor column started up. Nialla just shrugged, gripping a safety bar.

The seven combat vehicles (plus one elcor) rolled across the bridge, trading fire with their pursuers, plasma nipping at their proverbial heels. The defenders on the other side also joined in, their massed fire stopping the enemy cold. . As soon as they reached the other side and cleared the blast radius, the Coalition soldiers dismounted while the giant troop carrier sped away into the city. NAV markers popped up on their HUDs, showing defensive positions they were to take. As instructed, the Ravagers and their tagalongs promptly took cover behind massive stone barriers - apparently built to prevent the traffic from falling, walking or driving into the river - and started digging in.

Nialla did not know who decided that large stone blocks were the right material for a roadside barrier,, but at this point she wanted to kiss that person.

"All troops, stay clear of the bridge," she heard the local commander over the radio. "Detonation in ten… nine… eight..."

When the countdown reached zero, a series of explosions raced down the length of the bridge , their report a rapid staccato, blowing out the support beams and collapsing the spans. The defenders let out a ragged cheer at that: the Covenant wouldn't be crossing the river so easily now.

**1833 hours, September 16th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
North Ellana Embankment, Bhaakto City, Equatorial Plains Province, Alluvion**

As the battlle continued, soldiers from all over the city that could be spared for the task fought at the possible crossing sites.

The voice of General Pallonis echoed over the COM. "The last civilian transport is away. I repeat. The last civilian transport is away."

A loud cheer went out across the defenders. They'd fought hard, but they had bought the evacuation the time they needed. A feeling of contagious elation spread through their ranks, as they took aim at the Covenant forces across the river, gunning down scores of advancing grunts carrying portable shield emitters and energy mortars.

Yeltis's sniper rifle rang out five times, and five grunts lost their heads. Then a sixth round rang out, and the grunt he hit exploded in a fireball, plasma grenades and methane tank detonating! "Aim for their grenades." He intoned over TACNET, shifting his aim as he continued to pick off attackers.

"Nice shooting." Sergeant Johnson said, whose assault rifle boomed once, and another grunt exploded. "But you got quite a ways to catch up before you best me."

Kelnere laughed. "Damn, I can smell the male hormones from here." Her Daedalus Shotgun's choke tightened, and the barrel adjusted for long range firing. She fired a single shot, and three grunts vanished as their plasma grenades set off a chain reaction. "But I think this kind of job requires a woman's touch."

"You're not a woman, you're some kind of half-woman half-varren hybrid. And your varren half is part thresher maw and cybernetically enhanced." Yeltis quipped, his rifle ringing out seven times, taking down six grunts and a jackal. The bodies of the grunts were piling up at the edge of the river, forming a macabre barrier for advancing jackals. Nialla felt disgusted at seeing one of the Jackals taking a quick cheeky bite out of one of the grunts.

The Coalition forces had a definite advantage at this range over most Covenant forces. Their armor's integrated targeting systems, supported by the LADAR and RADAR equipped drones that buzzed overhead coordinated by the cloud computing of the BATTLENET, allowed them to lay down an expertly aimed and distributed stream of projectiles that brought the Covenant advance to a halt.

"Look." Gelvod said, marking the grunts on their TACNET with a waypoint marker.

The grunt bodies were starting to smoke. Small canisters around their belts were spewing out a thick silvery smoke which blocked the targeting equipment of the Coalition soldiers. Nialla tried to combine her cybernetic eyes with her armor's higher grade targeting systems, but she could not see through the thick metallic smoke. A hundred hardsuits aimed their sensor equipment at the smoke, combining processing power to analyze the new phenomena. It was a thick smoke filled with metallic particles. Some form of lead based nanotechnology. A hundred recordings were taken, and immediately transmitted to the BATTLENET for review by high command.  
More and more grunts were charging towards the large concrete barricades, dying in droves as they waved around their grenades. The smoke they created almost seemed to form a solid wall through which the BATTLENET could not penetrate, even with the combined sensory equipment of over a thousand Turian hardsuits. Eldritch green bolts shot out, taking down the drones that tried to fly closer and over the cloud. Large chunks of the TACMAP began going grey to signify a loss of feed.

An eerie silence descended on the battlefield, followed by a rumbling sound. Not taking any chances, Niala opened fire through the cloud with armor-piercing rounds, her squad following in her lead.

Through the smoke Nialla could see the outline of seven massive almost cylindrical vehicles rolled through the smoke upon massive spiked wheels, reinforced by the distinct glow on anti-gravity fields beneath their chassis. Anti-tank rounds bounced off heavy energy shielding, while dozens of plasma turrets returned fire, laying down streams of suppressive plasma fire. Wraith plasma bolts then appeared overhead, arcing downwards towards the defenders.

"Get down!" Johnson said, ducking behind cover as the Wraith strikes impacted, whole strongpoints disappearing in brilliant blue flashes.

The unknown vehicles turned their sides towards the other side of the bridge, revealing them to be as wide as three Wraith tanks. Massive spikes shot down from underneath the vehicles, anchoring them to the ground. Then in the blink of an eye, a wide slit at the bottom of the cylinder opened, and a wide platform shot out from it, crossing the span in seconds. They bridge slammed down onto the concrete barriers, flattening them, then attaching themselves with a series of long spikes.

"Bridging vehicles!" Someone to Nialla's right yelled.

A warning flashed on her HUD.

**INCOMING ARTILLERY STRIKES: DANGER CLOSE AUTHORISED **

Missiles and artillery shells began striking the bridging vehicles. Shields that spanned the entirety of the bridge began to flare, absorbing the damage. When a hole was blasted through one of the bridges, it began to close itself up as an automatic repair system kicked in.

Now hundreds of Covenant carbines and plasma rifles opened up through the thick fog, as red Wraith tanks began to engage Coalition armor with fuel rod cannon-equipped turrets. Screams of pain and death echoed from both sides of the river as the battle started up even more horrific than before.

Nialla didn't even need to think, moving purely on instinct as she fought. There was nothing to do now besides fight and try to stop the Covenant from crossing.

The sky went dark.

Nialla looked up, expecting to see a Covenant ship charging up its glassing beam. But instead she saw a burning half-destroyed Cruiser.

A single damaged Covenant cruiser was in a downwards flight towards the city, the shadow blotting out the sun for but a moment. Large chunks of the ship were breaking off, crashing down to the planet as spears of lights. There were some cheers at the sight, but the majority of the Coalition's soldiers were too engaged with the hectic firefight against Covenant forces to pay much attention.

Five Asari Cruisers were chasing after the crashing ship, their mass accelerators firing into the engines of the Covenant ship, while torpedoes shot out and embedded deep into the Covenant cruiser, detonating inside in whirling gravitational explosions.

There was a massive **BANG **as the 13th Company had been using as a base of operations was instantly flattened by a massive chunk of metal that had detached from the cruiser.

Nialla for a moment felt fear grip her heart as it looked like the Cruiser was going to slam into the city in a suicidal charge. Then her heart soared as silo-launched missiles flew in from the north and slammed into the underside of the cruiser, nuclear fireballs eating into the ship and breaking it apart. The Asari cruisers that had moments before been in pursuit released a swarm of dropships that sped towards the surface, as the cruisers broke off back towards Orbit, avoiding flights of Seraph fighters that attempted to engage them. Turian fighters and Human Broadsword fighters scrambled and engaged their Covenant opposites. One of the cruisers went down as Seraph fighters took out its engines.

Silence reigned for a second before a beam of green plasma lanced out from behind the Coalition lines, cutting buildings in half and cutting through one of the Asari cruisers instantly.

There was a thunderous footsteps, and a massive mechanical monstrosity on four legs rose up from the crater that used to be the 13th Company's building, its massive head scanning back and forth, then widening when it looked at another tank. Another stream of green death shot out, incinerating a hundred soldiers, and a dozen tanks.

"SCARAB!" Johnson yelled. "Target the joints!" He took aim with a rocket launcher taken from a dead soldier, and took aim at the so-called Scarab. Other soldiers began to do the same, trying to take down the new threat.

"What the fuck is that thing!?" Kelnara screamed, firing at it in fear. "Did they just drop that thing from orbit!? Wh-"

Yeltis grabbed Kelnara and pulled her down into cover. "We can gawk later. Run!" He said, grabbing Kelnara by the arm and running away from the creature's line of sight.

In an instant, the cohesion of the Coalition soldiers broke in the face of the sudden arrival of the Scarab, trying to counter the behemoth behind their lines. But as the Coalition soldiers got to their feet to relocate, the Covenant soldiers across the river opened fire with needle and carbine rounds. Soldiers went down, screaming as carbine rounds ate at their insides, or exploding when needle rounds supercombined inside of them. Either they stood and fought off the Covenant and the Scarab killed them. Or they tried to run, and would be gunned down.

Nialla took a needle round to the shoulder, her armor cratered and her cybernetic arm spasming before the automatic repair system could kick in. She folded her Phaeston into its carry-case format, and began using it as a pistol, her cybernetic grip allowing her to hold the weapon tight. Targets began lighting up on BATTLENET, hundreds of markers lit up in the cloud, each one designating an active enemy combatant. She fired strategic bursts at the source of the Carbine rounds.

A massive roar shook her bones, as a massive of brown fur and golden metal began to charge across the bridge. Brutes. Hundreds of the dreaded beasts charged across the bridge, crossing the distance faster than creatures their size had any right to. Caught between the Scarab and the forces across the river, and with their air-support engaged by Seraphs, the Coalition could do little to contest this crossing in time.

Nialla saw Gravity Hammers flatten Turians into paste or throwing them dozens of meters away, slamming into walls or each other. The Brutes were utterly merciless, and used their superior strength to great effect, barreling through defenders, sending them flying, kicking them to death, or picking a soldier up and ripping them limb from limb while roaring. The humans were targeted with particular gusto, with the Brutes striping the armor from those they grabbed, and devouring them alive without a shred of mercy. Fighting even as they stuffed human limbs into their massive jaws, chewing through armor, undersuit, flesh, and bone.

"C-cannibals." Kelnara muttered, sounding on the point of vomiting. "They're xenophages!" She took aim, opening fire at a group of brutes just twenty meters away. Her shotgun struck one in the chest, throwing it back for but a moment, only for it to roar in rage and charge her.

Yeltis took aim with his sniper rifle, kneecapping the oncoming brutes, then freezing off its head with a cryo blast. "We've lost. We need to evacuate."

Niala was inclined to agree, and then saw that the Scarab was sweeping another beam in their direction. She had only moments to react. Niallis grabbed Sergeant Johnson and jumped into the river with him, followed by the rest of Ravager team. Plasma hit her as she leapt, and everything went dark.

**-**

**1852 hours, September 16th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
Secondary Command Center, Bhaakto City, Equatorial Plains Province, Alluvion**

"NO NO NO NO NO!" Pallonis yelled as he saw what was happening. He didn't even know the Covenant could drop out Scarabs from orbit, not even the humans had known, or if they did, it hadnt been in any of the reports. HIs forces could have survived the Covenant's deployment of bridging vehicles or at least managed to contest the crossing, or survived the scarab drop. They might have even fought off a massed attack of Brutes. But not all three at the same time. Not when coordinated so well. Any defensive cohesion had been completely destroyed.

Everything was falling apart. The Reinforcement fleet had only just begun to engage the remaining three Covenant ships, and the Covenant was putting up fanatical resistance. No reinforcements would be landing until the Assault Carrier was disabled. And the Coalition didn't have any MAC guns operational to take them out. The 61st Battlegroup hadn't even arrived yet. And what if the Covenant brought up reinforcements?

"We're leaving." Spartan 104 said. "The battle is lost. I'm getting you off this planet before the Covenant overrun this position. "

"No. I'll remain with my men. They'll need me on the ground to coordinate an evacuation.. We'll regroup at-" He was immediately interrupted by the Spartan.

"We lost, General. Your capture would represent a significant security breach. Covenant Inquisitors have broken even the finest ODST's. I have seen the effects left by their mind-melter probes. Either you are going with us on the Pelican." The Spartan's faceplate and voice didn't betray the slightest hint of emotion. "Or I will be forced to deny the enemy the chance to capture you. Please do not force my hand."

The entire room went quiet, even one of the Spartans seemed somewhat surprised at this, but they did not speak up.

"Are you threatening-me, Spartan?" Pallonis asked incredulously. He didn't even consider making a move for his weapon. If the Spartans wanted him dead, there was nothing he could do. He noticed Saren discretely switching a Phaeston to armor piercing, but not take aim.

"My orders are to prevent the disruption of Command and Control on this planet, and to protect you as an intelligence asset. If I can't protect you, I will deny you to the enemy." The leading spartan said, then turned to the other Turians in the Command Center. "Destroy everything you can't carry. We're leaving now."

They looked at Pallonis for confirmation, and he just nodded somberly. "Bring me one of the suitcase computers, I'll coordinate a retreat from the Pelican. Call a full retreat to the spaceport, or the railway to the outskirts of the city. If they can't make it, have them flee into the hills and wait for EVAC."

-

**2304 hours, September 16th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
Ellana Valley, 17 km NW from the Bhaakto City, Equatorial Plains Province, Alluvion**

Nialla gasped for breath, clutching her chest. Her HUD was filled with red warning symbols, declaring large parts of her body heavily damaged and in need of cybernetic replacement. She needed a moment to get her bearings, trying to reorient herself and get back in tune with her cybernetics. Slowly, sound, color, and vision returned to her senses. Her cybernetic body's self repair systems had brought her back to consciousness after finishing the automatic repair sequence. She looked at her left arm, testing the damaged shoulder. It was fully functional.

"_With annoyance at the state of things, but delighted at what I see: _Nialla is alive." Delnerro growled.

Nialla looked around, seeing Delnerro crouching as a human was using an omni-tool to perform some maintenance on the Elcor's armor.

Kelnara was kneeling next to Nialla, using surgical tools to remove molten fragments from Nialla's cybernetics. The young turian looked shocked by what had happened, and was unusually silent. A human moved up behind her, and pumped a small squirt of biofoam into a cut on the back of Kelnara's neck. The Turian grimaced, then continued her repairs.

"Where do we go? The spaceport will have fallen by now. Shortly after our impromptu swim began, we received a transmission from the General, telling the troops to move at their best speed towards either the spaceport or the railway station - or scatter into the hills if they are unable to reach them in time. As of now, we've missed the deadline by _hours, _" Yeltis shrugged, leaning against his sniper rifle. He was talking to Sergeant Johnson, who Nialla noticed was dragging her heavy body.

"Incoming!" Johnson said, taking aim with a rocket launcher at something off in the distance. A Covenant Shadow APC had burst through the trees to the west, heading towards the survivors at high speed. But before someone could fire, one of the doors opened, and a green figure leant out to reveal himself, waving at the Coalition soldiers. It was a human in massive green armor, with a golden visor.

Johnson lowered the launcher, grinning from ear to ear. "Good news marines, we're going to make it. Prepare to move out! I have a feeling the gentle green giant there can use some help getting off this rock before the Covenant glasses it."


	50. Chapter 50

**Happy Halodays everyone! Merry Christmas. Here's my little gift to you all!**

-

**1900 hours, September 16th, 2542  
Ministry of Conversion, High Charity**

In front of Discovery sat the Ministress of Conversion. She was a withered elder San'Shyuum whose wrinkly skin and deep green eyes hid a fanatical resolve and devotion to the faith, one that matched any of her race. The third youngest to hold the position of Ministress in the Covenant, and possibly the first to have won the job fairly. Or as fair as San'Shyuum politics allowed. She sat cross-legged on a simple gravity platform that had no back to lean against, and which instead surrounded the Ministress with a precisely calibrated anti-gravity field which supported her as she hovered in meditation.

Discovery had never expected much from the young Conversion and expected her to be just another middling Minister of a Ministry whose primary purpose had not been needed in generations.

She had been a simple minor official besides then Fleetmaster Admiral Xytan as the Ministry of Conversion launched a campaign against the pirates and warlords of the Covenant Fringe. Xytan had found the reclusive Yonhet and had been intent on invading the world after diplomacy failed. Insisting that the Yonhet were too proud to surrender to the Covenant, and they had to be brought into the fold before they could prepare for a planetary invasion.

But before the invasion could begin, Conversion had intervened. Instead of forcing the Yonhet to adopt the faith by force, she had written a new syncretic doctrine for the Yonhet to follow. This, combined with promises of technology and trade concessions, had been enough to bring the Yonhet into the Covenant. She'd brought in terraforming equipment to clean up the Yonhet homeworld, and overseen the modernization of the entire planet to the standards of a Covenant core world. The Yonhet had quickly accepted their role in the Covenant and received their new faith first with skepticism, but immediately took to the emphasis on devotion to duty, the common good, and to achieve the perfection of the self. Linking the Yonhet Pantheon with the names of known Forerunners had allowed most mainstream branches of Yonhet religion to accept paying lip service to the Covenant. Yonhet became an island of stability in the tumultuous Covenant Fringe.

Upon her return, she'd performed a bureaucratic coup and took over the Ministry of Conversion. She then spearheaded a great reformation of her Ministry by demanding that all high ranking officials attend an ecclesiastical university. This had earned her the ire of the noble San'Shyuum families who could no longer dispose of offspring that had been placed on the Roll of Celibates by sending them to some remote missionary station or fleet. At least, not unless they were able to earn a degree in Acausal Consecrative Theology.

Conversion had since her ascension mostly focused upon her own Ministry, and rarely got involved outside of it. She'd aged into a well-spoken and old lady, but one with a religious zeal burning at her heart. One that had gotten many who'd slighted her interpretation of the faith killed.

"Discovery. What brings the High Council's largest closet heretic to me?" She asked, her voice dripping with Venom. "If Truth sent you, you can go back to him and tell him that my followers will not support him in his war with the Citadel. He can find some other fools to follow him."

"No such thing, Conversion," Discovery said, taking care not to offer his characteristic fake grin to the woman. "I have a gift for you."

"A gift?" Conversion asked, her angry look from before replaced with one of skeptic amusement. "What is this I hear, Discovery finally getting out of his office to join the rest of the San'Shyuum in political niceties?" She narrowed her eyes. "Just tell me what it is, what you intend me to do with it, and then what you want from me. I am quite busy trying to undo the damage Truth is attempting to do to the Covenant."

"I have with me the coordinates to a wreck from an unknown race, with a stasis chamber inside holding what my acolytes tell me, contains the viable egg of an unknown race."  
Conversion's eyes went wide, and for the first time, she actively looked engaged in the conversation. "A new race has been discovered? I will send my finest ships to this wreck and have the best healers take care of the egg. It has been too long since someone informed me of such a thing!" Her ecstatic mood faded. "Why are you telling me this personally instead of through the proper channels?"

It was now or never.

"Conversion. You are forming a political clique in the High Council around other San'Shyuum opposed to Truth. Everyone knows it, and you're quite open about it. I want to be a part of it." There was no point in lying here. Conversion would find his motives regardless. "I can provide you with technology, contacts, and more discoveries like these."

"Hmph. I figured as such. Like I said in the High Council, when word of the war reached the Holy City, Truth has kept me out of the loop about the Discovery of new species. When he first approached me about some minor heretical race squatting on ruins, I thought nothing of letting him go about his task while I focused on the Fringe."

She paused. "Mercy told me that I could trust Truth, but I worry that senility is starting to take what's left of his once-great mind. All he does is say what Truth tells him to, and appeal to the fundamentalist sects and merchant guilds to support the Ministries under Truth's command. I do not trust him anymore."

She paused. "When the war with the humans started, all I was told is that they were discovered investing worlds with Forerunner relics, and had destroyed them. I thought nothing of signing off on the destruction of a small race spread over a handful of worlds." Conversion rolled her eyes. "First Truth neglected to inform me of the size of the human empire, and then did everything he could to make sure none of us heard about the Citadel Council and its many races until crippled ships returned to the Holy City. In light of that, I will demand a review of all the Hierarch's actions in regards to humans. I will also send my own agents to examine their worlds. I'll find what information I need, then declare a Conclave in accordance with the duties of my Ministry. There we'll decide if humans are impure or not."

"And if they are actually pure?"

Conversion cocked her head at Discovery as if gauging his question for how serious it was. She narrowed her eyes for a moment, then nodded. "I'll call for a vote for no confidence and if I can, have Truth and Regret shot, and Mercy placed in an asylum. They'll have stained the Covenant for a thousand generations." She sighed. "Our descendants will curse us for our crimes. I almost wish I was wrong in this. But to do nothing here breaks too many doctrines, too many rules, too many unspoken rules. If we do nothing, the Covenant might as well be meaningless."

"Why do you care about the humans, Conversion? Even if not impure, aren't they still Heathens?"

"The Librarian did not give us intelligence so we could discard it and act like Jiralhanae." She chuckled. "I care about the future of the Covenant. How can we bring more races into the fold if we are known for Xenocide? Look at how the Citadel Races went from not knowing us, to dying in droves to push us back with fanatical determination. We have used force to bring species into the Covenant, but that Force is to be used against species above the fifth tier of civilization, and only against those who refuse peaceful integration." Conversion was visibly angry. "There is a reason the most important rule for explorers is to report all new civilizations immediately, and that refusal to do so is punishable by death. How can we ever bring new species into our Covenant, even as tributaries, if they're worried we'll wipe them out? We'll need to crush and integrate everyone we meet by force forever, until the Journey happens." She paused. "And how can we stand before the gods, on a road stained with the blood of billions? I fear our sins will weigh us down when the Great Journey sweeps through the galaxy."

"You sound convinced that humans are not impure, Conversion." Discovery stated.

Conversion pursed her lips. "I've been giving the proof Truth gave me a more thorough examination, and to my shame, I noticed flaws I did not see before. I noticed that the majority of the occasions the humans "destroyed relics" happened after the war started." She looked Discovery in the eye. "They're also the only ones with solid proof behind them."

Discovery thought back to his realization after Truth had dispersed the fleet across the borders. "He started the war on a pretense… He didn't overreact. Didact's fury, this goes beyond mere abuse of power. We're talking about high treason! The Sangheili will have his hide if this is true!" Discovery panicked for a moment. What had looked like a political opportunity was much more. What he had could destroy the Covenant.

Or reshape it, he noted. He agreed with Conversion. The Covenant could not be seen as an irrational actor in galactic politics, especially with so many new spacefaring races being discovered. He had seen too many radicals quickly removed from power in the High Council when pragmatists moved against them. The idea that the Covenant should be a power that was respected for advancement, faith, and trillions of souls working together for a grand common goal. Not one feared, loathed, and cursed. He wanted to be a great leader of a power that was treated with awe and respect, not loathed and opposed at all times.

Conversion's words also struck a cord in Discovery's heart. Would the Librarian forgive him for everything he had done? If the Humans were impure, he alone had killed tens of thousands, even if by proxy. How could he ever find redemption for such a sin? Truth might have damned his soul for eternity! He did not show any emotion to Conversion, even as he felt torn apart on the inside.

Conversion nodded, then started to grin. "But on to your unexpected visit. I assume the reason you want to join me is because Truth holds the Assembly Forges of High Charity in an iron grip, and you think if the Hierarchy were to be deposed, you could expand into their sections of High Charity?"

Discovery pushed the thoughts from before aside for now, and chuckled. "You're close." He did intend to make a move for the Hierarchy, but would be happy to have influence from the shadows. So great Truth was removed. "But yes, you are right in that I could provide an essential source of technological expertise to your cause."

Conversions pursed her lips and tapped the base of her gravity platform. "I agree with your offer, Discovery. Side with me and the Assembly Forges will be put under your supervision. I have resources you have knowledge. Together we can get many things done."

"Oh?" Discovery asked. He wasn't surprised in the slightest, but he hoped he could squeeze out a tiny bit of extra information.

"You are a simple San'Shyuum, Discovery. You want technology and advancement in the Covenant and will do whatever you can to advance these goals. You are also nearly broke and without allies." She paused again. "Not to mention your near-heretical views on Causal Consecrationism. But I can live with that, provided you do not spread your beliefs."

Discovery did not rise to the challenge. Causal Consecrationism held that the workings of the god were not made by divine hands, and only the gods themselves were holy. It was a faith that had been declared heretical and redeemed too many times to count. Discovery personally felt it was the only way to explain the difference between the different eras of Forerunner relics left behind. But he was smart enough to keep these opinions to himself. He'd have to be careful however, to avoid Conversion turning her zealous nature upon his Ministry. He went through all the contacts he recalled from memory to find a pawn he could turn against Conversion.

He was happy with the deal, but not completely satisfied. Conversion still had too much power and could quickly turn on him. Discovery decided he'd work for Conversion, but he decided to try and find a way to cut her down to size, as well as search for methods to increase his own power base.

"Excellent. I'll have the location of the egg transferred to you immediately. As well as my personal communications frequencies. You'll have my vote when you need it."

-

**1930 hours, September 16th, 2542  
Discovery's private chambers, Ministry of Discovery, High Charity**

When Discovery returned to his home, an idea had formed in his head, a way to both assist Conversion, and use her plan to benefit himself. Just the way he preferred his machinations. Empowering the Covenant, but himself just a little bit more. He could use Conversion to set the scene for his own rise to power. But he would have to make her think he was dependent on her. He could move in the shadows, and merely move the pieces into the right place to facilitate his rise to power.

Discovery was pleased to note that no urgent matters had come up while he was gone. In fact, the news was quite good. Orders for technology, advisors, and time for his private Assembly Forges were coming in from across the Covenant as they prepared for war. He was turning quite a tidy profit, just sending advisors to oversee everything from new mining equipment to orbital plasma torpedo silos. He was making a small fortune, and he eagerly began making mental notes for investments, expanding into new businesses, and consolidating his control over the smaller Assembly Forges and Merchant Guilds he had connections with.

Discovery pressed a button on his throne, sending out a localized EMP precisely tuned to wipe any listening equipment that might have been installed in his soundproofed room. He then hovered over towards the nearest wall and pulled a handle to pull out a small holographic emitter from its hardened casing. He went through his near-eidetic memory and set up an encrypted link with an old friend.

The imposing figure of Imperial Admiral Xytan appeared above the holographic emitter, dressed in a resplendent suit of silver armor emblazoned with holy runes. Discovery found it amusing that Xytan was always wearing such magnificent armor, no matter when Discovery contacted him. He assumed it had to do with Xytan's intended public perception.

"Discovery. Why do you call?" Xytan asked, crossing his arms, his gaze was so fierce, it was like they were staring into the San'Shyuum soul, and his mighty voice boomed across the speakers of the emitter. Discovery blinked, for a moment overwhelmed by the sheer charismatic presence before him.

Discovery smiled. "Xytan, remember that communications system I supplied you with? I believe I came upon something that might interest you."

To his credit, Xytan did not budge, and instead merely nodded his head. "Who needs to die?"

"No, no, no, nothing quite so barbaric." Discovery held up his hands. "But I came upon a plot to seize power in High Charity-"

"Someone is always planning to seize power, Discovery. That's what the Silent Shadow are for." Xytan interrupted, not sounding amused in the slightest. "I hope you have a more important reason to interupt me?"

"I believe that we might see new candidates for the Hierarchy put their case before the High Council. I thought you should know. In light of the... delicate political situation in High Charity."

Xytan leaned forward, looking intently at Discovery. "And you are worried Truth won't step down quietly," Xytan confirmed. "I hope it does not come to that. It would be a great shame."

Discovery tried to determine how sincere Xytan was, but he could not notice any changes to Xytan's booming imposing voice. He merely nodded. "He has been consolidating power for over a decade by now. You're the last Sangheili fleetmaster who is truly independent." Discovery knew Xytan, and that feeding his ego was quite useful. He needed to feed Xytan's messiah complex. "I am worried about a civil war. A new age of Conflict."

Xytan ground his mandibles, then nodded slowly. His holograms flickered. "...You are right. Something is growing in the Covenant. The Unggoy rebellions, the increase in piracy, political infighting. It's going to come to a boil eventually. If you fear a civil war is possible, I will take that to heart. I'll pull some strings, and be ready to assist the new Hierarchs. Do you have any idea who they are?" The hologram cut out.

"I do not, no." It was technically not a lie, Conversion hadn't explicitly said she would make a move for power. The more Discovery sounded like a lone voice crying for aid, the more convincing it would be to Xytan.

Discovery smiled in satisfaction at his accomplishments. All he needed to do now was support Conversion, wait for Truth to crack down on the city, then call in Xytan as a glorious liberator. Then Discovery would work at Xytan's side to restore order to the Holy City, and ingratiate himself with the new leadership. He could become very influential, very quickly. He just needed to be sure that if Truth had Conversion killed, which he was expecting, he was far away from her. He hoped she survived however, Conversion was quite enjoyable to talk to. And easy to manipulate if you knew the right buttons to press.

The existential terror still gripped his heart, but he was sure if he changed the Covenant for the better, made donations to the temples, and changed for the better, the Librarian could forgive him after the Great Journey.


	51. Chapter 51: The Silent Ship part 1

**1200 hours, September 17th, 2542  
ONI/STG Joint Operated Prowler Circumference  
Uncharted Brown Dwarf, Interstellar Medium, twenty-three years behind Coalition/Covenant frontline.**

"Captain. We are FTL. Prepare maneuvering thrusters for full turn." First, Officer Kirrahe said. The Salarian STG officer who had been one of several Salarians that had been seconded to the Prowler Corps to oversee the new Eezo-based FTL drives the Salarian Union had provided to ONI's Prowler fleets. There had been some hesitancy over the Salarians being allowed aboard UNSC Prowlers, but the benefits were considered worth it. With the new drives, Prowlers were finally able to transport nuclear ordinance without giving off massive blooms of Cherenkov radiation upon leaving slipspace. The prospect of a fleet of Prowlers hunting for Covenant shipping was too valuable. And it also gave ONI a more thorough look at Salarian operational procedures.

Captain Exaviel nodded. "Excellent. Take us into the Brown Dwarf for immediate discharge. Then launch all probes to determine if we can establish a Slipspace monitoring beacon inside the atmosphere."

Exaviel was ecstatic about the new initiatives launched by ONI against the Covenant. While the Coalition navy engaged the Covenant across the front, ONI and the STG had been setting up remotely operated slipspace monitoring stations behind Covenant lines, as well as charting for holes in the Covenant defense to penetrate with raiding fleets. He lifted his right hand from his chair, smiling at the four notches on it. Each for a Covenant supply ship ambushed by his crew.

There was none of the uneasy feeling of leaving Slipspace as the transit lights on the bridge turned from red to green, and the view screens turned on to show the stars outside. Exaviel missed the transition from Slipspace, as it had always psyched him up for action. But he was not bothered by it. Exaviel noticed that they had left FTL just above the atmosphere of the Brown Dwarf. The main engine switched off, and the maneuvering thrusters turned the ship around to face the failed star. All in all, the maneuver took just under a minute.

The holographic emitter to his left suddenly lit up, revealing a Tibetan monk in meditation. The AI's blue body had turned red. It was Leng, the new AI assigned to the Circumference. "Covenant signature detected in orbit of the Brown Dwarf. It has not detected us yet."

"All hands to battle stations," Exaviel stated confidently. "Engine power to fifty percent under stealth line, warm up magnetic launch tubes and arm two Shiva warheads. Leng, analysis."

The AI paused for a moment, its body turning green, yellow, red, and then blue again. A holographic representation of the ship appeared on the main viewscreen. The craft looked familiar to most Covenant designs. It was a ship appearing to be made of a shining purple material, without a single straight line to be found. The front and rear of the ship were both much smaller, however, with a sizeable bulky center that looked like an inflatable balloon, held in place by wires. It was also quite dirty, with large parts of the ship having lost their sheen, or even being replaced with oddly colored panels.

There was muttering from the bridge crew at the sight. The ship did not appear to be a threat, but the design did not fit in with what the Coalition had faced so far. "The ship design does not match any known Covenant ship classifications. The only armament I can detect are two pulse laser batteries. It is a hundred meters long. No energy shields detected. The ship's reactor is running at minimal power."

There was a confused silence aboard the ship, crewmembers looking back and forth at each other in confusion. They hadn't expected a Covenant ship transmitting a distress signal. What could have disabled it? Exaviel felt uneasy at what they had found. A cold chill went up his spine.

"Leng. Are the engines damaged?" Exaviel asked. The UNSC had never found an already crippled Covenant ship before, certainly not a small cargo ship like this one.

The AI flashed green. "The ship is dead in space. I can't see more."

Exaviel thought about what options he had at his disposal. If it was a Covenant ghost ship, boarding it was feasible.

_Forty marines could board a small Covenant ship, couldn't they?_

"Order our marine contingent to suit up for a boarding action." He ordered. "They are to board the ship. Lieutenant, find us a spot on the hull we can burn through."

His second in command, Lieutenant Tambudzai turned around to look at him. A young African woman from New Mombassa, with short-cropped hair, striking green eyes, and an incredibly firm jawline. "Boarding, sir? We don't have boarding craft. We just have our two transport Pelicans, and no dedicated breaching equipment. We'll need to blast our way through the hull of that ship to get inside."

Kirrahe spoke up. "I have an idea. The new GARDIAN array could burn a hole in the hole that your marines could enter through. It is a defense against fighters, but when all arrays are focused, the combined firepower could burn through the Hangr.I've done such things before. Forwarding the correct array settings to Leng." The Salarian's fingers raced across the keys of his station.

Exaviel nodded. Weighing the risks and the odds. It was worth a look at the very least. "We'll use our GARDIAN to cripple its weapons and maneuvering, then we'll board it with our Pelicans."

The AI nodded. "Kirrahe's data is correct. I am preparing a firing solution. I can fire when ready."

"Push engines to ten percent under stealth capacity. Fire the GARDIANS, and commence boarding the moment we get within range."

Every second felt like an eternity as Exaviel felt the soft acceleration of the Prowler's engine bring him closer and closer towards the Covenant ship. His mind raced as he tried to find out why there was a Covenant ghost ship here. He looked towards the Brown Dwarf. What if something else had been hiding there, the way the UNSC planned to hide a Slipspace monitoring station. He shrugged the idea off as raw paranoia.

"We have approached optimal firing range." Lee said, the lights on the bridge turning a darker shade of red. The entire bridge crew was silent, eyes locked on the viewscreen.

The Pelicans were ejected from their hangars, heading towards the Covenant ship at full burn. As they did, the ultraviolet GARDIAN arrays jury-rigged onto the Circumference opened fire at their designated targets. On the viewscreen, Exaviel could see the Covenant pulse laser battery melting away under ultraviolet rays, and boiling off into space. He smiled at the sight.

Leng's hologram turned bright red. "Weapons systems disabled. I am jamming all communications and burning a hole through the hangar now.."

The metal hangar door failed, revealing the transparent energy fields used by the Covenant to keep air inside of their hangars. At least those were still active. It also meant the ship still had some semblance of power. If the marines could capture it, perhaps Exaviel could transfer some crew aboard, and the stolen ship could be flown away by itself.

The viewscreen showed the Pelican unloading missiles onto the weakened metal and then flying into the hanger, passing through the field, and landing in the hanger.

"Boarding team inserted." Leng nodded.

-

Sergeant Zaeed stepped off the ramp of the Pelican, his Phaeston rifle at the ready. It had been about damn time he and his squad got to kill something. Being stationed about a Prowler was nothing less than torture for soldiers like him. But perhaps that had been the intention.

He looked at his rifle. He hated the damn thing, the near-infinite ammo was nice, but he did not like the design. Hopefully the UNSC would design some better-looking rifles soon. He swept his rifle back and forth, the lights on his armor and weapon lighting up the dark hangar. The green Hardsuits of the UNSC marines clashed horribly with the purple of the Covenant ship. The only thing he could see was dozens of large containers which his thermal scanners could not see through. There was no sign of life anywhere in the ship.

But the atmospherics were still enabled. The footsteps of the marines echoed through the quiet hanger, the only other sound being the soft hum of the energy field keeping air in the hangar.

"No split-lipped bastards in the hanger," Zaeed said, making a hand signal for his squad to advance behind him. "Search and clear the hangar."

Something metallic hit the ground.

Zaeed immediately turned to face the noise, as did the rest of his squad. The marines from the other Pelican did the same. It sounded like it had come from behind one of the larger purple cargo containers in the hanger. Zaeed glanced towards where the noise had come from. It looked like a crate of some kind had fallen over.

"Bastard behind that container, no confirmation on what kind," Zaeed said. He rechecked his thermals. Nothing.

Something blue and metallic skid across the ground from behind the purple container. Zaeed took aim, then looked at what it was. It was a plasma rifle. He looked back at where the sound had come from, where he saw a hand gripping the side of the container. It was fleshy, with some blue from the armor. The head of an Elite poked out, mandibles wide, and eyes looking directly at him. Zaeed took aim.

The Elite stepped out from behind the container and went on his knees, putting his hands behind his head.


	52. Chapter 52

The Marines were silent, rifles still aimed at the surrendering Elite, but to their credit, nobody fired. They glanced back and forth at each other, confused by the grossly out of character Sangheili behavior. Zaeed finally got a good look at the Elite. It was wearing blue robes with a simple armored chest piece.

"Since when do Covenant surrender?" Zaeed asked incredulously, speaking to nobody in particular. He put a hand on the side of his helmet to show his squad he was communicating with the Circumference.

"Captain, are you seeing this? We got a surrendering Covenant."

"Your feed is coming in loud and clear, Sergeant Zaeed. I don't know what's going on, but let it be for now. Leng is preparing our translation software."

The Elite began to speak.

Zaeed was at a loss for words. He had just boarded a Covenant ship and been met by an Elite who surrendered. He had absolutely no clue what was going on anymore. The Covenant didn't talk to humans, and they certainly did not yield! But here he was, looking at an Elite that peacefully surrendered in the face of overwhelming force. He tried to rationalize what he was seeing, find some reason for it, but he had no success.

"Captain, what are your orders?" Zaeed asked. "I have no bloody clue what the thing is saying, but he sounds rather calm. At least, I think that's calm for a bloody Elite!"

The voice of Leng came over the COM. "I am translating the Elite for the bridge crew and your Platoon. One moment. Just keep him talking, do not attack unless he charges or opens fire on you. We don't often get a chance to take an Elite prisoner."

Fluently translated words flowed across the SQUADCOM. _"- merchant. If you wish for a Tithe, I have little to give but my depleted cargo. Surely we can come to an arrangement? I am stranded aboard this ship, but I have finances stored on other worlds."_

"What are you talking about," Zaeed yelled. "Do you think we're a Pirates? The hell do you think we are?" A translation came out of his helmet's speaker, and the Sangheili looked up. The Elite looked taken aback, but not intimidated in the slightest. Its mandibles clicked a few times, then it resumed speaking.

_"I do not recognize your equipment or your race."_ The Elite paused, mandibles clicking._ "You are not of the Covenant? But you know the trader tongue. I thought you were members of a fringe race collecting a tithe for crossing your territory." _The Elite cocked his head to the side. _"No, you must not know of the Covenant. Then allow me to introduce-"_ The Elite began to stand up, only for Zaeed to tighten his grip on his rifle and resume aiming. The Elite eyed him cautiously and kept his hands behind his head as he rose.

Suddenly, Zaeed's microphone was muted by Leng, and the speakers of his helmet were taken over remotely. Captain Exaviel began speaking through Zaeed's mask. "We are not with the Covenant. Do you not know about Humanity?"

_"Am I speaking to the leader of these warriors?"_ The Elite asked.

"You are," Exaviel answered.

The Elite's eyes widened in surprise._"Then I was wrong to think you Tithe collectors. I would speak to you, Shipmaster to Shipmaster."_ The Elite crossed his arms._ "As is custom."_

Just as half the Marines were about to start yelling expletives at the Elite, Leng muted their microphones, leaving them to scream inside the confines of their helmets. Zaaed got a chuckle out of this, as his helmet continued to relay the words of the Captain.

"You mentioned a cargo. Are you a trader?" Exaviel asked, sounding interested.

The Elite waited for a moment, looking back and forth at the soldiers aiming guns at him _"I am a free trader. But my drive failed, and I got stranded here after an emergency exit from Slipspace."_

Zaeed gave the Elite another scrupulous look. The Elite definitely looked very thin and scrawny. Had he been starving? He looked at the dark hangar. It made sense to minimize life support if a single person was trapped aboard a ship. That did give his story some credibility.

"Wait. How long have you been out of contact with the rest of the Covenant?" The Captain asked. His voice sounded increasingly confused and pained.

_"I have been away for [Translation Error: Closest approximation, 0.78 Earth years],"_ The Elite said.

Now Zaeed was curious. He'd thought this Elite had been out of contact with the Covenant since before the war. But he hadn't. So how the hell didn't he know about Humanity? He had absolutely no idea what to think, and just resigned himself to being a relay for the Captain's words.

"How do you not know of your race's war upon Humanity? It has been going on for seventeen years!" The Captain sounded angry and incredulous, very unlike the seasoned prowler Captain Zaeed knew him to be. The old soldier assumed it was because the Captain expected Humanity to be more known amongst the Covenant. He sure did.

_"War?"_ The Elite asked quizzically. _"When I left, there was no talk of war, of any kind. I do not know what you're talking about."_

"What." The Captain bluntly stated, sounding deflated.

_"Until today, I didn't even know your species existed, let alone that there's a war. Are you sure you're not dealing with a warlord?"_ The Elite said.

-

**Bridge of the Circumference.**

Utter. Deafening. Silence.

_"Are you sure you're not dealing with a warlord."_ The words repeated themselves in Exaviel's head again and again. A warlord. A fucking warlord. If the Elite was right, which Exaviel dearly hoped he wasn't, then the UNSC hadn't been in a war of life and death with the entire Covenant, but only some warlord on the fringes. This could change everything. He needed to get to the real story.

Kirrahe turned around, looking at Exaviel. "We should take him on board. He is starving and could be a valuable source of intelligence. The option is both a moral and a pragmatic imperative."

"Bullshit!" Tambudzai stated. "We should kill him and take over the ship. It has to be a lie, right?" She sounded like she was trying to assure herself that it was, in fact, a lie, but had difficulty in doing so.

"Irrelevant. A chance to speak to a Covenant trader could be invaluable." Kirrahe countered vehemently. "If we understand how they think, we can use that against the Covenant."

Exaviel turned back towards the viewscreen, looking at the Elite. "Are you the only survivor?"

The Elite on the viewscreen nodded. _"I am the last survivor of my crew. My offer stands. Get me off this ship, and I'll make it worth your while."_

Exaviel thought it over. "Bring him aboard," Exaviel ordered. "Ready a full medical team to take the Elite to a secure medical room. I want him to be guarded around the clock. Sergeant Zaeed, continue to examine that ship, find out if he's telling the truth."

-

**Circumference Medical bay.**

The Elite lay strapped into a medical bed, surrounded by doctors and medical equipment that attempted to examine the alien and find out how to save its life. The Elite had collapsed from exhaustion after arriving aboard the Circumference, and he'd been rushed towards the medical bay. He'd been strapped onto a medical bed, given intravenous saline, and fed via a tube. Exaviel did not know how ONI doctors had figured out Elite anatomy, and he did not want to find out.

The Elite stirred, opening its eyes and looking directly at Exaviel. "So it was not a dream." He groaned. "I must thank you for getting me off my ship. I owe you a debt of honor." The Elite said. His voice, though unintelligible without Leng's translation, sounded proud and noble, surprisingly. And that bothered Exaviel. This Elite was being completely reasonable, so why were others of his kind waging a genocidal war? He just couldn't find it.

"You surrendered. It was the right thing to do." Exaviel said, not being completely honest. He had considered venting the Elite into space. But Kirrahe had convinced him to interrogate the creature.

Said Salarian was currently sitting opposite to Exaviel, hidden by a cloaking field, and with a gun to the Elite's head. Not surrounding the Elite sounded like the best course of action with its advanced state of starvation. So instead, there were just four guards in hardsuits, with shotguns loaded with taser rounds standing at the entrance to the room, as well as two medical professionals. The rest of the bridge crew was watching via the cameras.

"You mentioned your race was at war with the Covenant?" The Elite asked, leaning forward in his bed, only to be held back by the straps. It raised a brow and mandible at the sight, but did not prod any further. "When I left High Charity, our capital, there was no war." He paused. "Our Executioner fleets were still in peacetime deployments."

"Executioner fleets?" Exaviel asked.

"Pure dedicated warships. Unlike most of our ships, these ships have one purpose, to destroy. It's a reminder of the violence that will be required to bring about the Great Journey, so they are kept out of the hands of those who would use them against the Covenant. If there was a war, those ships would have been sent to the front."

Exaviel felt a chill go down his spine. If the UNSC was being slaughtered by a Covenant warlord, and their actual warships had not been sent into battle? Just what was the UNSC dealing with? He continued talking. "For the last seventeen years, we have been getting slaughtered by Covenant warships and soldiers. Hundreds of ships, and possibly millions of soldiers. Is it normal for warlords to have that many forces?"

The Elite narrowed his eyes, looking deep in thought. "Something is wrong, then. To make a violent first contact without permission from the Ministry of Conversion is a grave crime. For your plight to not be discovered for seventeen years sounds… unlikely." The Elite rested his head in the palm of his hand, as if nursing a headache, scratching his right temple, or whatever the Elites had there. "I've traveled across the Covenant fringe, and I've not heard of warlords like that since Xytan cleansed the fringes."

Exaviel had no idea what to think about these revelations. He kept hoping and assuming it was a fiction. It kept him at ease.

"What were you transporting?"

"Odds and ends. Curios and trinkets for the rich, fancy produce, as well as some high-grade Xenotime. I don't ask questions about what I transport."

Exaviel nodded. He was starting to suspect he was dealing with a not entirely legitimate trader. Perhaps a smuggler? The way the Elite sounded almost delirious from the combination of starvation and dehydration made him think that the Elite would otherwise have been more stringent in what he said. He was

"We examined your ship. Why was it dead in space?"

The Elite looked hesitant before he spoke. "When we entered Slipspace, something went wrong. It was like we were being thrown back and forth inside of Slipspace, and I lost control over the ship. Swathes of the crew went mad, dropped dead, or disappeared outright. By the time we left Slipspace, we were almost out of fuel. I set life support to minimal and prayed for deliverance."

"What do you mean, "thrown around?" Exaviel asked, a knot of tension forming in his gut.

The Elite looked him directly in the eyes.

"Like there was something outside, and it was trying to get in."

-

**Aboard the Sangheili cargo ship.**

Zaeed looked up from the crates of spoiled produce he had been examining. The ship smelled horrible, and he and his men had disabled their olfactory sensors while looking around. The ship looked unlike any Covenant structure Zaeed had ever seen. It was filled with a mish-mash of technology that appeared rigged together in a way that resembled some pirate freighters Zaeed had boarded in his earlier days.

The realization gave him an idea. He went down on his knee and began tapping on the floor panels. And soon enough, he heard a hollow sound. Zaeed grinned at his cleverness and ripped the panel aside. A classic secret smuggler compartment. Apparently, even the Covenant had smuggling. It was filled with small containers with suspicious powders and liquids, as well as small odds and ends. Necklaces, rings, and other trinkets Zaeed had no idea where they would even go. There was a single small box that didn't stand out from the other trinkets, but Zaeed was curious. He gently took the box and took it out of the smuggler's compartment. He opened it.

Inside was a small cylindrical black object covered with organic-looking spikes and tendrils, rested on a soft bed of velvet and silk. Zaeed picked it up with his left hand and looked it over, he took a flashlight from his belt and used his free hand to shine a light on the device. There was a plug at the bottom that made it look like it could be attached to something, but it also had a chain attached to it. A string that was definitely not made of the same materials. Zaeed's hand brushed across one of the tendrils.

Suddenly the device lit up with a baleful blue light, and Zaeed felt something inside lash out, slamming against his mind and trying to burrow inside. He raged against the intrusion with a mental fortitude he did not even know he had. His muscles tensed as the invasion intensified, and he could not drop the device. His memories drained away as the machine extended cold metallic tendrils throughout his mind, ripping out what felt like every positive emotion and memory he'd ever had, ripping out everything that made him human.

With the last of his free will, Zaeed put his pistol beneath his right cheek and fired up.


	53. Chapter 53

Zaeed screamed in pain, holding the size of his head, blood gushing down over his face. He was screaming in incoherent rage at the pain. The influence of whatever he'd touched had been forced from his mind by the trauma. He kicked the damn thing back into the hole he'd taken it from. A fiery rage burned in his head, a pure incoherent anger that took away any intelligent thought he might have had.

A squad of marines had entered the room, trying to contain their pain-maddened Sergeant, but he merely slapped them aside. He screamed at whatever had dared to try to take over his mind.

He took off his mangled helmet, his troops staring in horror at the wound. Zaeed screamed into the helmet.

"This entire damn ship is haunted. We're leaving!" He growled as he waved off the medic that tried to patch him up. He was getting off of the ship and back to the circumference.

-

**Medical bay of the Circumference.**

"Captain, something just happened." Leng suddenly yelled over the intercom in the medical bay. "Sergeant Zaeed. He shot himself after touching something on the Covenant ship! He's demanding we nuke the cargo ship immediately."

Exaviel turned to look at the Elite. "What. Happened." He was a moment from taking his pistol and ramming it down the Elite's throat and demanding answers.

"He must have touched the artifact." The Elite said sincerely, not trying to hide it in the slightest.

"Artifact. What artifact?" Exaviel asked. The idea of an artifact being able to make a man commit suicide disturbed him greatly. It offended him on a fundamental level as someone who believed all things could be explained rationally.

The Elite leaned back into his bed, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Then he murmured something. "The Artifact I was transporting for some crazy cult. They paid quite a lot for me to make sure it reached them. The one that killed everyone aboard when it woke up."

Exaviel nodded at the Elite. "Except you. What did you say about the way they died?" He started to calm down. He could talk this through, find a way to safely dispose of whatever had killed the crew of the cargo ship.

"No." The Elite looked sorrowfully at Exaviel. "It killed me too. I just remembered I was the first to die."

The Elite began struggling against its bindings, arms and legs stretching unnaturally, skin ripping apart to reveal cold blue lights inside. Red lightning began to arc around its body, flesh melting away into a noxious black goo. Additional limbs extended from its back, vicious claws that looked like they could dig deep into tissue and crush bone. The Elite broke free from his restraints and roared. It was a scream that cut to Exaviel's bones. The sound was wrong like it was not meant to be heard by mankind.

Kirrahe emerged from his cloaking field and opened fire into the side of the Elite's head, but this did nothing to phase the abomination, the bullet merely passing through. The Elite's neck extended, and its face split open into five sections along the lines of its mandibles. The creature lunged out, biting Kirrahe's arm and ripping it off in a shower of blood. The STG operative screamed and fell back, using the omni-tool on his remaining hand to try to tend to the horrific wound. The guards opened fire with their shotguns, taser rounds implanting themselves into the flesh of the once-elite and sending enough electricity into his body to kill a brute. But this did nothing to slow down whatever creature was stuck in the medical bay. It glared at them with burning red eyes. A device erupted from the side of the Elite's head, targeting one of the guards with a laser, before a blast of electricity erupted from the flesh of the monster, jumping from guard to guard and leaving them as a crumpled scorched mess.

Exaviel fell onto his back as he tried to get away from the monster, crawling backward as he opened fire with his MA6D service pistol. Each shot blew chunks out of the abomination he was facing, but this did little to slow it down. It went down on five limbs and ran, leaping over Exaviel and heading for the door.

Four marines rushed into the room, only to freeze in fear at the sight of what was heading towards them. They opened fire, but the creature was upon them. A vicious jaw tearing off heads, claws ripping out throats, and fists crushing chests. It was unlike anything Exaviel had ever seen. The abomination raced out the doorway, heading directly for the bridge.

Exaviel slowly righted himself, then put a hand to the side of his head. He'd cut himself when he hit the ground. "Code Black!" He yelled across every communications channel. "The ship has been infiltrated by… by something! All forces converge on the bridge! Shoot to kill! Initiate Cole Protocol!"

Most of the Circumference Marine complement had been sent to the Covenant ship, with only a single squad remaining onboard, as well as a standard guard complement in essential locations. There were only eight marines left aboard, the rest had boarded the enemy ship. "Pull back all forces from the Covenant ship, immediately, then prepare to destroy that haunted tub!"

Leng's voice spoke into his head from his neural interface. _"Captain, the unknown entity is trying to force its way into my database. Its processing power is… I do not know! It's somehow reacting to me before I even try something. My internal clock is leaping forward hours at a time. I am detecting gravitational and temporal anomalies all over the ship. Slipspace around the ship is... There is something wrong!"_

"You're an ONI AI! Tell me what this damn thing is!" Exaviel screamed as he ran to Kirrahe and pulled the Salarian to his feet, and shoved his pistol into the Salarian's remaining hand. Kirrahe nodded. "I apologize, Captain. I had no idea such a thing was... Nevermind. Let's go." Kirrahe kicked a shotgun up from the floor, with Exaviel catching it. He reached for the ammunition of a fallen guard, quickly loading the shotgun.

"Apologize for what? That some abomination crawled its way out of slipspace to slaughter the ship? We can't let this thing escape."

"Agreed. You take your marines and head for the Bridge. I will head towards the engine room and prepare to detonate the reactor. Good luck, Captain." Kirrahe engaged his tactical cloak and slunk off in the direction of the engine room.

A squad of marines busted down the doors. They had to have come from the barracks. They stopped to look at the slaughterhouse the medical bay had become, some pausing to look in confusion at Exaviel, but before they could ask what had happened, Exaviel yelled. "With me! We can't let that monster take the bridge!" He wasn't sure what it was they were facing, but that didn't matter. The creature rushing the bridge had only one explanation.

It wanted control of the ship.

-  
**Circumference Bridge**

The cameras outside had been ripped away and consumed by the abomination, which was changing rapidly as cybernetic modified and rearranged themselves into new hideous configurations. It left a trail of death and destruction in the halls as it charged the bridge on all of its limbs, digging into every surface of the rooms it passed. Nothing slowed it down as it propelled itself through the ship. A churning mass of cybernetic limbs, discolored flesh, and crackling red energy. The monster advanced without pause, claws destroying sensors and cameras as it advanced.

Leng heated up the defensive turrets aboard the bridge as the once-Elite began to bash down the Titanium doors. The bridge crew had taken their sidearms and joined the two Marine guards in fortifying the room. Lines of fire were established, and weapons charged.

The door started heating up by some unknown mechanism, and the blast doors began budge as claws dug in and began to pull the massive slabs of Titanium-A apart. As the doors opened, the hideous visage of the creature could be seen through the gaps. The defenders opened fire immediately, only for a barbed arm to lash out through the hole, grip one of the ensigns tightly, and pull him towards the doorway. There was a horrific noise as the creature began feeding on the ensign, and he screamed for his comrades to open fire.

The door servos failed, and the doors were ripped wide open. The monster leaps inside, plasma fire, erupted from its chest, revealing integrated plasma weapons that blew off limbs and melted defenses, while blasts of laser-guided electricity burned defenders into smoking heaps.

Leng opened fire with the defensive turrets, armor-piercing rounds ripping chunks off the abomination. If he could have screamed, he would have roared in defiance for all the good it did him. His turrets were ripped from their mounts one by one after the creature leaped towards them, cutting them off their mounting, and using one of them as a club to kill several of the surviving defenders.

The creature then moved in on the Captain's chair. It jabbed a clawed hand into Exaviel's console, forcing its way into the system.

Leng could now see the true extent of what he faced. It wasn't some mindless abomination spawned from slipspace, but something more, an intelligence. He tried futilely to stop the intrusion, but his cyber defenses were nothing to a being like this. Its thought patterns were unmistakably running inside of Slipspace. Leng's slipspace sensors could see the invisible control over the once-Elite.

In desperation, Leng began to detach as many functions from the bridge as he could. Engineering, doorways, defensive guns, life support, airlocks. Everything he could to stop it from taking control of the ship. He tried to wipe the navigation data, but the entity rewrote the data as fast as Leng could erase it. In a manic desperation, he transferred the navigation data to engineering and cut the connection.

The digital space Leng inhabited was rapidly falling apart as the corruption spread, Slipspace-based mathematics, and code slowly replacing every line of code of Leng's being. And as it did, Leng too began to see like the creature did.

Everything went dark, and Leng was in a dark room, facing the abomination that was consuming him. Hinged jaw and glowing baleful eyes glaring into Leng's very being. He felt fear. True fear. He wanted to cry, even though he couldn't do so.

The being reached out with a claw, grazing Leng's cheek, then grabbing his jaw, holding it tight, and pulling Leng closer. Streams of data and code entered Leng's being.

He screamed.

-  
**En route to the Bridge.**

Exaviel heard screaming over the radio as he and his squad approached the bridge. He and his marines passed scenes of carnage and bloodshed as bad as any battle of the Human-Covenant war, but a thousand times more horrifying as they realized what they faced. He and his marines ran as fast as they could. They had to pass through a long hallway before they could get to the bridge, a design initially intended to give the defenders an advantage in the event of a boarding action, but which was not being used against them. Exaviel noted he'd received a message from Leng.

Leng suddenly started screeching across every radio and intercom aboard the bridge, with a voice that sounded like nails on chalk.

**"SaPIenCe Is A Lie.  
rEalItY Is ThE PlAygrOunD oF tHE InTellects Of ThE MisT.  
SuFfEriNg iS TruTh.**  
**ThE CyCLe WaS NoT EnoUgh.**  
**JoY IS A MisTake**  
**We TaP On thE GlAsS.**  
**DeATh iS sAfeTy.**  
**wE rEtUrn."**

Leng's final scream caused every speaker and radio aboard the ship to burn out or explode at the same time. Marines screamed and threw off their helmets as their eardrums burst and blood ran down their heads. The ship's power went out, and the only light that remained was a pair of glowing blue eyes.

Exaviel's shotgun spat out one shell before he was ripped in half.


	54. Chapter 54

**Circumference engine room.**

Kirrahe entered the engine room, scanning the room with his pistol as he checked for any sign of the entity. He'd turned off the radio after hearing the death cries of the Captain. He didn't have the time to mourn for him.

There were several human survivors at work fortifying a part of the room pistols, shotguns, and an assault rifle. They looked scared but determined. ONI, like the STG, did not recruit the meek. Kirrahe introduced himself by speaking from around a corner. "It's me, Kirrahe. I'm entering the room with a cloaking field. Don't shoot."

There was some muttering. "Do it slowly!" A voice yelled from inside the room.

Kirrahe stepped into view of the defenders, his cloaking field turning off and revealing himself. "The Captain is dead, and the bridge has been lost. We need to detonate the reactor immediately." Kirrahe walked towards the engineering console, connecting himself with his omni-tool and quickly scanning it for any method by which he could destroy the ship. "There is no time to waste. Whatever we are dealing with is a malicious entity from Slipspace." He said, turning to the engineers as he worked.

One of the humans walked forward, gripping a pistol tight. "We tried to prepare for self-destruction when the Captain declared Cole Protocol. But something in the system delayed our effort, then the lights went out and the systems started failing. Whatever is aboard the ship, it's got access to every system Leng did not disconnect from the bridge. When we tried to order a self-destruction, somehow, the thing started sending countering our actions before we even did anything."

"What do you mean?" Kirrahe asked quizzically.

"We tried to force self-destruction multiple times, but this… this thing somehow got all the disarm codes. I have never seen anything write code so quickly. It's writing programs on the fly to counter existing counter-intrusion measures."

Kirrahe instantly realized what had happened. The entity had locked down Leng by assaulting its database and then stolen all its data. That meant it had control over the ship's computer systems. It also had knowledge of how UNSC software was written, and was now making its own.

"Can we do it manually?" Kirrahe asked.

The engineer looked thoughtful for a moment, then turned to look at the engine. "We've been trying, but it won't be pretty. We're trying to smash the safety systems and flood the core with deuterium. The thing can set the reactor to emergency power all it likes, but it won't work without the regulating systems operational. But it still needs time to build up enough power to actually detonate."

"It's better than nothing," Kirrahe stated. He turned back towards the console, noticing a file transfer that had just arrived. It was the navigation data of the Circumference. He raised an eyebrow, then glanced around, seeing the engineers at work quite literally smashing the safeties off of the reactor housing. Kirrahe discretely copied the navigation data to his omni-tool and set it for an automatic full wipe in the event of dismemberment or death. He then removed the navigation data and crushed the data wafer it was on. A human turned to look at the noise and nodded, then returned to work.

"Barricade the doors and weld them shut. Clog the door mechanism with whatever you can find" Kirrahe said. "I'm going to lead the intruder on a chase." Kirrahe put his omni-tool on the stump of his right arm, and then prepared his pistol. It was a trusty Carnifex pistol he'd chosen after ONI had expressed disapproval of letting the Salarian take a venom pistol with explosive rounds aboard.

He left engineering and entered the darkened hallways of the ship, cautiously looking around him for any movement. He engaged his cloaking system and began the hunt. Kirrahe's eyes were fixed on the motion tracker of his HUD as he headed in the direction of the bridge.

It did not take long before he saw glowing blue eyes and flickering red sparks in the distance. It was the infiltrator with its back turned towards Kirrahe. It was plugged into a computer station. Kirrahe got a good look at what he was facing. The creature had shed most of its flesh, leaving nothing but bonelike glowing cybernetics that were imbued with a baleful light. As Kirrahe examined the tissue, he noticed that it had not been shed voluntarily, but been torn apart by high-velocity rounds. He assumed that the only part of the creature that it required was its metallic components, with any flesh being purely for infiltration. It had to be terrifying fighting an enemy that ignored its flesh being torn off, without slowing down.

The arms and legs of the intruder had become clawed appendages that could be used independently of each other, allowing it to run on all six of its limbs. Two smaller tentacles were attached to its spine, both outfitted with what looked like remote manipulators in the form of several clawed hands, each covered with fine cilia. Its shoulder blades looked like they had been replaced with crudely mounted plasma rifles that swivelled back and forth. The way the additional manipulators looked as if they could fold up quite nicely, and plasma rifles that looked like they'd been sunken into the creature's shoulder blades made him think that he was facing an infiltrator. While its skull had a targeting laser sticking out of the side on a small mobile tendril. Its jaw was a hideous bloody affair, consisting of massive jagged teeth and a powerful bite, which Kirrahe still remembered quite vividly.

The most substantial part of the being was its chest, which was heavily armored and as large as it had been before transforming, although there were several jagged cuts indicative of an armor-piercing round scraping by, as well as several dents, and even a hole. Thinking back to when Kirrahe had shot the creature in the head, he assumed that the head was merely a sensory system, with all vital functions being located inside of a hardened chest cavity. The chest looked somewhat like a suit of Sangheili armor. Kirrahe remembered the "trader" had been wearing a chest piece and robes. Either the chestpiece had been part of the entity hidden inside the trader, or it provided a good cover for a bulky chest.

Kirrahe decided to start by blinding the creature. If the chestpiece was the strongest part, it would be best to take away the advantages of the entity one by one. He switched his pistol to an incendiary-armor piercing double-tap.

He charged a cryogenic blast from his omni-tool and fired it at the head of the beast, then immediately switching his posture to lean his pistol on the stump. The creature turned its head in time to be splattered by the condensate. Its remaining flesh froze and cracked, while the metallic skull became more brittle. Kirrahe fired, putting two shots into the weakened neck. The first thermite round impacted the frozen surface and caused a small explosion of heat and steam, cracking the surface of the armor. The second armor-piercing round shot through the neck, causing large cracks that broke off the head from the body.

Then it turned the twin spine-mounted tentacles to face Kirrahe. They moved back and forth, then tensed up, aiming at him.

"Non-visual sensory system. Unfortunate." Kirrahe muttered, and flash fabricated a cryo grenade and threw it at the creature. It attempted to bat the projectile back at Kirrahe, but it detonated on contact, covering the abomination with the cryogenic solution. Kirrahe opened fire, rounds hitting but failing to penetrate the chest. Kirahe switched aim at the last moment, shooting one of the plasma rifles and knocking it off the mount. Kirrahe was about to smile when one of the two tendrils snatched the plasma rifle and took aim with it.

Kirrahe turned on his cloak and ran as fast as he could around the corner, feeling plasma bolts flying past, and hearing the clanging movement of the creature chasing him. He headed towards the hangar. Perhaps he could fight it in an open space? Or at least delay it long enough for the engineers to destroy the ship. He passed by dozens of corpses of barely armed crewmen who'd been killed by the infiltrator, trying not to be distracted by the grotesque ways they had died. The only thing that mattered now was to kill whatever he faced before it escaped.

His radio activated. _"This is Sergeant Zaeed Massani. The boarding party is returning, ASAP. All survivors get to the damn hangar immediately!"_

**Circumference Hangar Bay.**

Zaeed stepped off the Pelican, his rifle sweeping through the dark hangar. He had seen the power aboard the ship go off and heard the Cole Protocol be declared over the radio. Whatever had boarded the ship, he was ready to go in and kill the bastards. His marines advanced slowly behind him, more terrified of Zaeed than of whatever was inside the ship, especially after he'd struck a Marine who'd suggested that the Sergeant remain aboard the Pelican for treatment. Zaeed would have none of it. Nobody tried to enter his mind without getting a grenade shoved down its tailpipe.

The hangar was devoid of lighting, requiring the Marines to turn on their helmet lights set to maximum, and the lights on their rifles sweeping the area. There were no signs of life anywhere to be found. No crewmen or marines heading for the hangar to await the return of the boarding party. It was too damn quiet for Zaeed's liking.

"Set up lines of fire. Keep all entryways locked down. We have no idea what we're facing." Zaeed yelled, even as a medic was rushing beside him, trying to patch Zaeed's ruined right eye socket and frontal lobe up. He was convinced he would drop dead as soon as his adrenaline ran out, so he kept it up.

His radio chimed up. _"This is Kirrahe. I am being pursued by the infiltrator. Prepare to ambush it. Use cryogenic and incendiary rounds and aim for the limbs. Its torso is too tough!"_

"Kirrahe. Which entrance are you using?" Zaeed demanded.

_"The main entryway. Wait. It just stopped its pursuit. It just leapt up into one of the air ducts."_ Zaeed cursed. It had to be listening in on the radio. _"It might be trying to flank you. Get ready."_

Zaeed looked at the marines and barked out his orders. "Double load: Triple cryo, triple incendiary." Zaeed cursed the lack of heavy weapons, but they were a prowler crew. They didn't carry anything more substantial than assault rifles. Omni-tools were lit, and weapon configurations were quickly modified on the fly. Each gun would fire three cryo rounds, followed by three incendiary rounds. All he and his marines had were assault rifles, shotguns, pistols, and grenades. No heavy weapons that could damage the hull.

Then Zaeed got an idea. His best one in a long time.

He walked up to the nose of the Pelican he had arrived on and began ripping the chaingun of its nose with judicious use of his omni-tool, coarse language, and adrenaline-fueled rage. With a final triumphant scream, he broke it off. Zaeed ignored the medics telling him to calm down, and began to jury rig a crude connection from the gun to his omni-tool. He worked frantically, the burning pain in his skull keeping him focused. He hefted the weapon triumphantly. His marines glanced at each other, not sure who was the most significant danger on the ship.

Kirrahe appeared, and to Zaeed's surprise, was missing his right arm. Kirrahe leaped forward and slid across the deck, flipping around and taking aim behind him as he did so. Zaeed had not seen the Salarian so panic-stricken before. He took aim down the doorway himself but did not see anything approaching.

"Kirrahe. What the bloody damn bastard hell is aboard this ship, and how did you lose your arm?" Zaeed yelled as the pain in his head wound spiked.

Kirrahe got up and looked at Zaeed's head wound, eyes going wide, but quickly got over it. "There is an acausal slipspace entity puppeting a cybernetic infiltrator unit aboard this ship, which is attempting to take control of the ship."

"A what!?" Zaeed asked incredulously.

"Spooky possessed robot killing people."

"Oh." Zaeed said. "Well. I've never killed a demon before. Guess there's a first time for everything."

"It's not a demon Zaeed, it's some kind of remotely operated cyborg which is controlled by something in Slipspace." Kirrahe said with irritation in his voice.

Zaeed glared at the Salarian. "It's something in another dimension that is possessing a body and wreaking havoc. That's what I call a demon."

Kirrahe sighed. "Whatever. Engineering is still alive and preparing to blow up the ship. We'll be going up in flames soon, but we have to stop this thing before it finds a way to stop them. We should hunt this thing down and kill it."

Zaeed nodded grimly. "Cole Protocol. But how do you propose we kill this thing?"

"I discovered its chest is too tough for most of our weapons to penetrate, but its limbs are weaker. We need to use cryogenic rounds to weaken them, then incendiary and armor-piercing to break its armor. Weakening it is a good way to start. It's how I removed its laser-guided electricity projector."

"The what?" Zaeed asked as he finished the final touches on his modified weapon.

"Lightning gun."

Zaeed nodded. "This thing is clever if it knew to cut the power and focus on the bridge. I'll bet my remaining eyeball that he'll attack the Pelicans if we leave them behind. I'll keep one squad on guard. We don't want him to get out of range of the blast for some other poor bastard to pick it up. You and I head for the engine room alongside my squad, and we'll kill the thing there."

Kirrahe nodded. "That works."

Zaeed spun up his chaingun, grinning wickedly at Kirrahe, licking the blood from his upper lip. "Time for a depleted uranium exorcism."


	55. Chapter 55

Zaeed swept the hallway with his improvised chaingun, keeping a careful eye on corners and vents as he moved. He was worried about the creature ambushing from a vent or corner and getting into close combat. So the UNSC marines advanced like they had been trained, moving together as a cohesive whole and keeping every single approach covered. Zaeed's hardsuit was the leader of the cloud computing network all the Hardsuits aboard the ship were a part of. While lacking the raw processing power of a strategic level BATTLENET, it could still assist the squad in moving optimally. Entrances and other approaches were marked, and soldiers assigned to watch them. This, combined with the motion trackers and augmented sensory package, made Zaeed confident they would not be ambushed.

It also made Zaeed convinced he was overconfident and going to be ambushed.

Zaeed disliked the dependence on technological assistance for many Human soldiers. The marines were trained well and disciplined, but they were dependent on their equipment to survive. He had his suspicions that several of them couldn't even read a map that wasn't on a datapad. And the new Mass Accelerators made "spray and pray" the calling of the day, the effectively infinite ammunition allowing soldiers to blaze away in the hopes of hitting something. When the first Hardsuits had been handed out to UNSC troops, and Zaeed had observed the insane levels of aim-assistance and target-acquisition provided to the users, Zaeed had not been happy. And especially about the newest batches of Marines and Army soldiers raised en-masse from Outer Colony refugees and was not impressed, to say the least. Most of them would probably be unable to hit their targets without VI-assisted targeting.

He almost sneered at the thought of soldiers who couldn't function without fancy auto-targeting and a battle network telling them what squad to join, what vehicle to use, what position to take, and where to fire. They wouldn't last a minute against an Elite with nothing but an assault rifle with half its rounds spent, and a knife. His generation of soldiers had been trained to work together as a cohesive whole, understand each other's body language, and almost think as a collective. Raw professional skill.

Oh, he liked the new Hardsuits that were being deployed, as well as all the rocket launchers, shuttles, tanks, shotguns, assault rifles, medical kits, rations, and all the other good stuff the Citadel Races donated to the UNSC war effort. But that didn't matter when the soldiers grew dependent on them. It pained Zaeed to admit that while Humanity's veterans were better at fighting the Covenant than most Turian soldiers, Humanity's new recruits were woefully inadequate, and it showed whenever the Covenant bastards shut down parts of the BATTLENET. Soldiers had to depend on their own skill and training.

But what could be done? The Orion Programme was gone, and his colleagues were either retired or dead now. And he didn't know where any of them were. Zaeed didn't know a single friend or family member from his youth who was still alive. For all he knew, he could be the last Orion soldier still in active service. And where did it get him? A career of getting shuffled from unassuming deployment to unassuming deployment, always under close watch by ONI so he didn't spill the beans on the Orion project. Getting prodded and poked by doctors who wanted to see the long term effects of his augmentations.

But at least he got to kill a demon!

Zaeed checked his minimap, noting that they were getting close to the Engine room. His suit sensors indicated a gradual increase in temperature, originating from the reactor. That was good, but it would also be noticeable by the infiltrator.

Kirrahe's voice broke him from his introspection. "Wait. I recognize this console." The Salarian was saying, pointing at a console the squad was passing. Zaeed turned to look at it, noting that the ports for the console had been widened. He tightened the grip on his improvised heavy machine gun. "I engaged the creature here. But I don't see the components I removed."

"You mean the head you shot off? Shouldn't that mean this thing is blind?" One marine asked, poking at a patch of frozen metal.

"I expected that," Kirrahe said. "But it had two tendrils which appeared equipped with sensor packages. Removing the head didn't slow it down in the slightest." Then the Salarian paused. "When I removed an integrated plasma rifle, it caught the weapon and opened fire with it. I believe it may have retrieved its head and could be attempting repairs. Where is the nearest place it could find tools?"

Zaeed brought up a map on his HUD. "The armory is nearby. Shit. Are you saying it's repairing itself? If it can do that, it can also raid the armory for weapons." Zaeed retook the lead, weapon at the ready. He headed directly for the armory, where the ground had several large splotches of blood as well as cybernetic fragments. He grit his teeth in anticipation of the revenge that was to come.

Zaeed quickly made a series of quick hand signals when approaching the door that his hardsuit translated into commands. Four marines took up breaching positions around the door. Zaeed stood just out of line of sight so he wouldn't immediately be shot the moment the door opened. He'd enter after the marines to lay down suppressing fire.

Zaeed pressed the button to open the door, and his marines entered in well-choreographed order, weapons at the ready. Zaeed went after them, spinning up the chaingun and looking for a target. He saw the head sticking out from behind an overturned table and opened fire, ripping through the thin metal in an instant. The rest of the squad joined in, opening fire at Zaeed's target, filling the dark halls of the ship with glowing orange and white incendiary and cryo rounds, respectively. When no return fire came, Zaeed ceased fire, immediately getting a bad feeling about it.

The creature's head rolled into view, riddled with bullet holes, but unmistakably mounted on a metal rod.

"Son of a-" Zaeed started a colorful tirade, when a vent in the hallway bust open, and the creature dropped in the rear of the squad. Within moments it was upon the rear guard, slamming an armored claw through the chest of one marine as the shoulder-mounted plasma rifle opened fire on another and melted through his chest after a burst in extremely close quarters. At the same time, one of its two tendrils grabbed a third marine by the neck and snapped it.

Zaeed took aim and opened fire, the 70mm depleted uranium rounds ripping apart one of the creature's arms and tearing open the wall behind it. He moved after it as it began to run the moment it saw Zaeed's weapon, sweeping the chaingun after the running creature, putting several rounds through its chest, only to duck into another vent.

"Follow me," Zaeed said, not giving the fallen marines a second glance. All that mattered to Zaeed now was dragging the abomination down into hell with him. He stepped over the fallen marines and continued the pursuit.

Suddenly the severed arm leaped up towards Zaeed's face, only to be cut in half horizontally by Kirrahe's omni-blade.

"Well, that's just fucking great. It's a zombie too?" Zaeed asked. Kicking one of the fragments into a wall. "Like things couldn't get worse!"

"It's still just a cyborg, Zaeed," Kirrahe said.

"Yeah, one that comes back from the dead and tries to claw my bloody face."

"If you say so," Kirrahe said, giving up and taking up a position in support of Zaeed, then held up a hand, pointing at the thin dividing wall Zaeed had shredded. "Wait. I saw something." Kirrahe leaned over and shone a light through the gap, then climbed through. Zaeed awkwardly followed him, followed by the rest of the marines.

The crew quarters had been ransacked thoroughly. All the lockers had been opened, the bedding was torn up, and a vast pile of torn clothes and other assorted trash put into a corner.

"This wasn't here before. This isn't an Army barrack." Zaeed muttered. "What is this thing searching for?" He kept close watch, waiting for the creature to jump out from somewhere.

Kirrahe looked up, motioning towards a service hatch. Then something caught Kirrahe's eye, and he leaned down and picked up a datapad.

"This was a soldier's private datapad. Why would this thing be reading datapads." Kirrahe narrowed his eyes and turned to look at Zaeed. "I think this thing must be gathering information."

"So?"

Kirrahe sighed. "It is gathering information it could have easily asked for while in disguise. I think that the Trader didn't know this monster was inside him." He continued advancing in the direction the creature had last fled. "That might mean it is not able to control its host. It chose to appear when the Trader realized it had been killed."

"Bloody hell. I can't believe I'm saying it, but that poor bloody bastard must have been converted and not been fully conscious of it when it did, the transformation began."

"Exactly. Wait. Did you just draw a sensible conclusion?"

"I'm a crazy old man with a chaingun. Not a stupid old man with a chaingun. But what do you think this thing is doing? It seems a bit unfocused."

"If I'm right. It's not got any real purpose besides gathering information. It caught Leng, that alone is a horrible breach of Coalition infosec. Now it's just gathering extra information. I think. Maybe it is planning something else."

They left the room and continued back towards the engine room. Zaeed was starting to wonder if Kirrahe had a plan to escape the ship, or was distracting himself from his imminent death by gathering as much information as he could. It was a weird coping mechanism, but Zaeed didn't mind. It was better to talk to Kirrahe than one of the marines scared shitless of him.

They started heading back towards engineering. Zaeed checked his thermals again and still didn't see anything. The damn thing had to be running on room temperature somehow, or be using some other method of disguising himself.

Zaeed turned off his radio for a moment. "Kirrahe. Why are you delaying?" Zaeed asked, he was pretty curious at this point. "You seem pretty willing to move around examining things at their own pace. But you're making it look like we're deviating for some other reason. You're smart enough to know to go directly for this thing and examine after. What gives?"

"Information wins war, Zaeed." The Salarian said.

Gunfire echoed in the distance.

"And I wanted that thing to think we had a separate objective from hunting it!" Kirrahe shouted. "It went for the engine room because it thought we were busy, we can catch it from both doorways and the engineers behind their barricades!" Kirrahe said and sprinted ahead, engaging his cloak and disappearing from sight.

Zaeed ran after the Salarian, followed closely by his marines. He ran faster than the lot of them, even with his improvised weapon weighing him down. His body would hate him afterward, but Zaeed didn't really care about that.

They quickly approached the door to engineering, and Zaeed promptly made a series of hand signals, ordering the squad to breach from two separate doorways. Zaeed went left, Kirrahe went right. They quickly took up breaching positions at the door, the gunfire in the room no less intense than before. Zaeed nodded at the marine opposite of him and slammed a fist on the door to open it.

The soldier right next to Zaeed immediately caught a spray of plasma bolts, while Zaeed's chest was hit by a smaller burst. He screamed as his skin blistered and burst, and opened fire in the direction the shots came from, all the while rushing into cover.

The creature let out a mechanical screech as the depleted uranium slugs ripped off one of its tendrils in an explosion of cybernetic components and unknown fluids. The marines with Zaeed took heavy fire from the creature. It sounded like a heavy machine gun ripping people to shreds, even though the beast hadn't had that weapon before. Then Zaeed saw that the infiltrator had somehow taken a turret and converted it into a weapon of its own. Its aim was impeccable, and men and women collapsed one by one, clutching stumps or mangled throats.

The creature had taken up a strong defensive position but was beset from three directions, it was squatting above the large computer mainframe that ran the Prowler's engines and reactor, using it as a vantage point. The creature had braced itself on a remaining "leg" with a stump jammed into the computer. The beast dug itself in and fired in three directions. Its shoulder-mounted plasma rifle sweeping back and forth, scoring headshots and hits that melted weapons. At the same time, it held a detached plasma rifle in a manipulator, using it to support its firing. It raked the turret back and forth. Zaeed, for an instant, glimpsed that the stump was lodged inside of a data port on a nearby console.

Zaeed's squad was thinning out fast, as were the engineers. The creature was taking damage, but it was just too damned tough. As it moved and slithered around at high speed, it was damnably hard to hit the thin limbs, while rounds just bounced off its armored chest. Another limb went flying; this time, the creature's intact leg. It stumbled, but it continued firing. It pulled the stump from the computer.

Zaeed's improvised weapon caught a precision plasma bolt from the creature, melting the barrel and rendering it ineffective. It brought the machine gun to bear, taking aim at Zaeed, spinning up.

Kirrahe appearing from his cloaking field, cutting the weapon in half, sidestepping a slashing stump, and jabbing his omni-tool into the socket the creature's head had been attached to, firing off an incendiary blast. The abomination was set on fire from the inside out. Kirrahe leaped aside, only to have the remaining tendril wrapped around his waist, squeezing and trying to put a plasma pistol against the Salarian.

Zaeed charged and cutting the Salarian free with his omni-blade. The shoulder-mounted plasma rifle moved to track him, but Zaeed sidestepped and grabbed the device, ripping it free in adrenaline-fuelled rage. He turned the Covenant weapon upon the thing from close range, melting the side armor, even as inner fires raged through it. Red lightning was starting to arc around its body, and a cold chill went through his spine.

**"You have become a nuisance."** the creature said with a cole and eloquent voice, dropping the turret. Red energy arced around the claw, sharpening it into a fierce spike it thrust for Zaeed's chest.

Armor-piercing rounds hit an icy cold patch on the arm where a Marine's cry rounds had found their mark, shattering the armor and damaging the limb. Kirrahe continued firing as he lay on his back, not letting up his assault. The limb's thrust went wild.

Zaeed put an arm around the creature's limb and used it as leverage to throw the beast over his shoulder and onto the desk. The weakened limb broke off at the damaged joint, and the abomination skid across the ground. Not wasting a moment, Zaeed charged, wielding the limb as a spear, and thrust it through the burning chest. The spike slammed straight through the reinforced armor, causing a horrific screech that nearly made Zaeed go deaf from the proximity. It shuddered as red energy arced around the limbs and out of its wounds.

Then with a final spasm, the lights went out.

Zaeed stepped back, admired his handiwork, and spat on the monster. Then lost consciousness as the rage and adrenaline finally wore off. 


	56. Chapter 56

"So. Now what?" The chief engineer said as a pair of Marines tended to Zaeed's unconscious form. The man had picked up a long metal pole and was shoving the remains of the slipspace entity's puppet into a corner. "The reactor is gonna go off in a few minutes. I can stop it, but we're never firing the old girl up again. Fast vaporization might be better than starvation. How do you want to go, Kirrahe?"

Kirrahe approached the pile of ruined components, firing his pistol into the wrecked chest cage of the infiltrator until it overheated. He then knelt and poked it with the tip of an extended omni-blade. "Shut down the self destruct. We need to tell the Coalition of this thing. Even a beacon is better than nothing. We should drop a black box."

The engineer barked a few commands to some surviving marines and engineers, and they began working on the reactor. The man seemed undeterred by the situation or had to be shell shocked to some extent. "Name's Adams, by the way." The chief engineer said, eyes still locked upon the construct. "This thing is fascinating and horrifying. And this was hiding inside of the Elite? Damn thing fooled every scan we performed. Just when you thought the Covenant couldn't get wor-"

"It wasn't the Covenant," Kirrahe stated confidently. "This thing was growing inside of that Trader. Or it had been hiding inside. But I have no clue what could replace someone's entire skeletal system and replace it with cybernetics, and not have them notice. But the actions of this thing go contrary to the Trader." Kirrahe turned a component over and gave it a look. "I think that the Trader was converted, but repressed the knowledge of it. When he did, the infiltrator took full control."

"Well. Fuck. That's horrifying. How do you even test for something like that?"

"Cut someone to the bone and check if there's anything blue."

Adams chuckled. "Crude but effective. The best kind of effective if you ask me. I was hesitant about ONI letting STG officers aboard Prowlers to help get the Eezo cores to work, but you've been a real asset."

"How's the Eezo core?" Kirrahe asked, his mind racing as he tried to think his way out of their situation.

"Intact. We focused our demolitions efforts on the reactor. But without a reactor. That core is pretty much useless."

"Not exactly. We might not have a reactor, but the Covenant ship does." Kirrahe grinned at Adams. "Even at low capacity, the drive core can get us back into UNSC space. It might take some work, but we should be able to connect the two."

"You want to go to a ship where an abomination like this came from!?"

"This Prowler is just as compromised, and the reactor is pretty much dead. Unless you want to slowly starve to death, die from thirst, or choke to death, I don't have any other suggestions on what we can do."

Adams looked lost in thought for a moment. He began walking towards the room containing the Eezo core, taking Kirrahe along with him. "I mean. It should be possible. I think. If we move the Prowler close enough, we might be able to rig up a crude airlock of some kind. Make it easier to move back and forth. It wouldn't be a pleasant trip, though. We'd have to run the Covenant reactor on absolute minimal to power the drive core. While using backup power cells from the Prowler to power life support and such. All else fails, we could see about salvaging the Covenant ship for components. Just a reactor housing could do miracles for getting the ship back to work. But the NAV data is wiped. I saw you crus- oh you, son of a bitch, you kept a copy." Adams muttered as he realized what Kirrahe had done.

Kirrahe flash fabricated a UNSC compatible data chip and copied the Nav data he'd made a copy of onto it. "Never trust a Salarian with your files."

"You're going to be in so much trouble if ONI finds out." Adams muttered.

"Are they, Chief Engineer Adams?"

Adams was silent for a moment, then glanced at Kirrahe's Omni-tool. "Give me your omni-tool hand keep all the apps on it, when this is over, and I'll cover for you."

**900 hours, September 20th, 2542  
Aboard Covenant Smuggling ship**

Zaeed woke up in a startle, glaring around at his surroundings. His heart sank in his chest when he saw the familiar colors of Covenant construction all around him. He immediately rolled out of bed and looked for a weapon. He glared around, only to notice his equipment was laid out on what had to be a chair. The Covenant wouldn't have given him his stuff. The memories of the fight with the infiltrator came back to him. He'd killed probably the closest thing to a mythical demon in the universe, and everything felt like hell. He felt something itch on his face and felt the familiar feeling of bandages. He got up, started putting on his gear, when the door opened, revealing Kirrahe standing there.

"I see you woke up early," Kirrahe said. "Not many people can fight for an hour with their skull broken open. Are you feeling any good?"

Zaeed groaned at Kirrahe. "I feel like I took a harder pounding than a pretty boy recruit with long hair in an Army base."

Kirrahe burst out laughing, then quickly composed himself. "You're probably wondering why we're back aboard the Covenant shi-"

"Hell yeah, I am!" Zaeed yelled. "Did the Prowler explode or something. How long was I out? Did you take shrapnel to the head to make you think this was a good idea? Or is my head so fucked I'm confusing purple and grey?"

Kirrahe continued like Zaeed had not interrupted him. "-Ship. It's because the self-destruction the Engineers set in motion on the Prowler destroyed much of the power grid, and rendered most of the ship unusable. They got it to stop after you killed that abominable infiltrator, but the Circumference was as dead as Tuchanka. So we're using the Covenant ship for habitation while working on the Circumference. It isn't much, but its better than choking from lack of life support. Covenant build to last. It didnt take long to change the atmospherics for long term habitation."

"Doesn't most Covenant technology explode if you try to play with it? I don't fancy being on another exploding ship. Lord knows I've done that too many times to count. Then again, a Covenant ship is a new one." Zaeed had gotten his armor back in and began doing some stretches. It was unbelievably painful, and he enjoyed every moment it reminded him he still had his limbs.

Kirrahe was silent, then continued. "This ship is definitely a smuggler's ship. The technology is all kludged together from what had to be a dozen different sources, and without any real safeties in place. But it's also incredibly simple when you get the hang of things. The engineering crew is convinced they'll be able to repair it using parts from the Circumference. Come."

Kirrahe led Zaeed out of the room he'd been sleeping in. Zaeed noticed immediately the mismatching panels, jury-rigged UNSC computer equipment plugged in around the place, and boxes of food and other supplies stored wherever there was room. Marines, engineers, and other crew that had apparently holed up somewhere during the slaughter were moving around, trying to convert the Covenant ship into one they could pilot. Kirrrahe explained the situation as the two walked through the ship. "We managed to determine that the reactor of this ship was sabotaged as well as the Slipspace drive, but we believe we can repair the former. We're trying to couple the Prowler to this ship, and extend the drive core's field to cover everything."

"Sounds like a recipe for an explosion," Zaeed muttered as he saw an engineer trying to adapt a Covenant power socket for a fridge. Zaeed guessed that nobody was eager to stay aboard a ransacked ship which had been ripped apart by fighting, covered in blood, and with the electronics fried to hell and back.

"Probably. But it's that or wait for death. Marines are ripping apart all non-essential data storage devices and equipment from the Circumference, as well as this ship, to avoid any data contamination, as well as restoring all operating systems on our equipment from hard copies, just in case. We're cludging together a more permanent airlock between our two ships."

"Who's in charge? Heck. Who is left of the old crew?" Zaeed asked.

"Chief Engineer Adams is in charge of trying to couple the ships. The bridge crew is dead. All that's left is twenty marines, eight or so engineers, and an assortment of cooks, clerks, cargo technicians, medical personnel, and whoever managed to hide from the creature." Kirrahe whispered to Zaeed. "I saw some of them installing a still. Is it normal for your sailors to illegally brew alcohol?"

"It's tradition. Every UNSC warship has its own secret supply of gut-rotting brews, Kirrahe. "Zaeed said proudly. "ONI Moonshine is actually a drink instead of an industrial cleaner because they're not a bunch of crayon-chewing marines who think aftershave mixed with pineapple juice makes for a good replacement for beer."

The Salarian raised an eyebrow. "That's a very specific example. Were you the crayon-chewer, or the pineapple aftershave drinker?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Zaeed guffawed. "I drank the aftershave directly from the bottle."

"...You drink a disinfectant that is specifically made to taste horrible?" Kirrahe asked warily, eyeing Zaeed like the deranged old man he was.

"After a few bottles, it scorches your taste buds, and you lose the urge to vomit. You get used to it." Zaeed shrugged. His head hurt. He tried to remember something about the day that his mind got assaulted by the slipspace entity "Kirrahe. There was something aboard this ship. When I touched it, I-"

"Your marines told me, Zaeed. I had a drone pick it up and store it in a lead-lined box inside a mesh cage, inside an airlock. We'll find a way to destroy it permanently."

"Toss it into a star," Zaeed said. "Or a black hole."

"Not with this ship, we're not. We are barely sure we can get it started once. But we'll dispose of it all safely as soon as we can."

"If you say so," Zaeed grumbled. "Still feels fucking wrong. Something crawling out of Slipspace and rampaging through our ship. Or the way that Trader didn't even know he'd been taken over. Fucking hell, Slipspace is creepy enough with people disappearing, I didn't need to know there was something inside of it."

Kirrahe's gaze darkened. "Indeed. It is the most sobering discovery to be sure. In any case, I'm planning to see Adams before we head off. Want to join me?"

"Don't see why not." Zaeed shrugged

They passed through a large door, which led to what looked like the bridge of a spaceship. Zaeed looked around at what had to be a pair of Engineers setting up a holographic overlay over the original controls to translate what they said. Chief Engineer Adams was working with an omni-tool, taking pictures of everything he saw and typing in instructions. He was installing a UNSC command chair where the Covenant leader would presumably have stood. Adams glanced around at the sound of the door opening, nodded, then got back to work.

"Ah. Zaeed. I see you really are too stubborn to stay dead. How's the face?"

"Sure hurts like it, Adams." Zaeed grinned. "How is your new toy?"

"Confusion personified. But I'm starting to think we'll be able to get it to work. It's at least got working life support. The Circumference has had nearly all its computer systems and functions scrambled and destroyed by two AI fighting in its systems, and then by our attempts to force a reactor overload. We're trying to get the reactor of the Covenant ship to power the Eezo core. Our tests are promising so far."

" How long until we get home?" Zaeed asked.

"A week to properly connect the ships, and a month to get back to UNSC space at minimal Eezo field and thrusters, we dare not risk more. That isn't counting technical difficulties."

"Well, shit. I'll get the playing cards." Zaeed muttered. "If we're resorting to cannibalism, we're eating the lizard first. I have a recipe for soup that dates back to the rainforest war. You'll love it."

Kirrahe chuckled with growing concern. "We're amphibians"

"Watch it, Kirrahe." Zaeed laughed. "Alligator is just as tasty. Now where are the medical supplies? I deserve some morphine."


	57. Chapter 57

**1200 hours, September 11th, 2542  
ONI Public Relations Office, habitation block 14, space station Omega.**

"I have booze and snacks." Michael said proudly as he opened the back door to the first ONI office beyond the Relay, carrying a large bag filled with cans of the closest thing to beer and salty snacks that Omega had to offer, as well as large tubs of nutrient paste/

The interior of the ONI office was an anachronism. Instead of hiding, ONI had established a public office on Omega and even advertised itself with a sign outside that spelled out the name. Although the sign had been partially cobbled together, it looked good. Michael moved inside, giving a good look at his new home. He was in the largest room of the ONI office. It consisted of a dozen large cubicles in the back of the room, a large table surrounded with mismatched chairs. Through a small door, in the end, were rooms to negotiate in, and a stairway that led to the rooms of the ONI operatives.

It had been the only building the ONI agents had been able to afford that was actually close to the docks. CINCONI had proven herself to be supportive of Rickard's bizarre idea to publicly advertise an ONI office to the political factions of the Terminus Systems for the sake of negotiations but had only been able to provide a limited amount of untraceable Citadel Credits. This meant that unlike a sizeable fortified compound like in UNSC space, ONI's Omega office was barely more substantial than a home, even if it had been provided with as many security measures as possible.

Inside were the four agents that made up CYST, the nerve center of ONI expansion into the Terminus systems. Lieutenant Commander Rickard was a seasoned ONI operative with decades of experience in the brutal inner politics of ONI. He was in charge of the initiative, and the mastermind behind it. Rickard had grown increasingly grumpy since the arrival in Citadel Space, frustrated by the lack of incriminating leads on the Citadel races. He was in charge, and the only one allowed to make lasting deals. Michael suspected he had been sent here partially as a punishment for not being able to hide the ruins on New Ghent.

Not that Michael knew about the ruins. He had certainly never read the reports that came across his desk quite intensely.

ONI's attempts to increase their influence and reach throughout Citadel space had involved setting up hidden cells on worlds that had accepted human refugee populations and using these as locations to spy on the galaxy at large. Although efforts had been hampered by the Citadel's refusal, strict border controls. The Citadel, while ostensibly on the side of the UNSC, were still cautious about letting UNSC Smart-AI into their space, mainly because there was little real need for them among human civilians. This would undoubtedly last until the STG had developed Citadel AI, and ONI had lost their advantage.

Before leaving for Omega, ONI had set up a cell on the Citadel amongst the human businessmen and women who'd moved there after the UNSC had loosened certain travel restrictions out of UNSC space. The rich and powerful of human society in an attempt to save their wealth from the Covenant had begun making tentative inroads on the Citadel, searching for a location to hoard their wealth. Along with the exchange students and workers who had been invited to the Citadel, a small, tight-knit community of humans had developed. Rickard established spy rings to keep firm control over all branches of humanity, even those outside UNSC space. Wherever there were humans, there would be ONI agents to keep an eye on them.

Jackson was the data analyst and spent most of his time hooked into the Extranet, managing a series of data-gathering dumb AI ONI had smuggled into Citadel space at high cost. He examined the gathered data and organized it in a form that could be used by Rickard. He was a skinny and plain looking man of Russian descent who didn't leave much of an impression on anyone and preferred the company of his AI. He was a hard worker whose output was impressive. "Hrmm? Oh, thanks, Michael." The agent said as he kept his eyes glued to the screen, shoveling beer and snacks down his gullet as he worked. The sound of his keyboard was like a machine gun going off.

Johannes was a charming smooth talker, possessed of an incredible jawline and an almost infectious charisma. He was the one sent to contact other groups on Omega and organize meetings. He had been part of an inter-species incident involving the impregnation of the daughter of an asari crime lord, and then the crime lord herself when he went to make amends. He was also utterly ruthless, only forming relations to facilitate his work for ONI. He visited parties, made friends with the locals, and got ONI valuable business contacts from the attendants of the high-class events he attended.

And Michael Church did the paperwork and housekeeping. Not that he minded. It was calm, and everyone liked him. Nobody paid attention to the janitor. Michael passed by the cubicles and gave each of the agents the consumables they'd ordered, then headed towards the back room and the fridge to store the rest. Rickard gave an uncharacteristic nod of approval at Michael, then sat back down and continued reading transcripts of recent interviews.

They'd been working around the clock hosting meet and greets with representatives from Megacorporations, mercenary groups, criminal syndicates, and mixes of all of them. The UNSC was a massive market for nearly any goods, and groups that were hesitant to negotiate through Citadel intermediaries had proven receptive to dealing with ONI directly.

There was a knock at the door. Every ONI agent turned to look as an asari in form-fitting armor with a face hidden by a flat black faceplate walked inside and headed towards the table, sitting down across from Rickard, who glared at her scrutinously.

"Can we help you?" Rickard asked. "You have not made an appointment. Who do you represent?"

The asari slid a datapad across the table. "I represent a person called the Shadow Broker. Have you heard of him?"

"I have heard the name," Rickard said. "But I don't know who he truly is."

"Good. The Shadow Broker is the master of information in the galaxy. He knows everything, and can get anything done. He knew you were going to move here before you even arrived, and about the VI's, you smuggled past Turian border controls. But he is a businessman and wants to introduce himself to the Office of Naval Intelligence." The ONI agents glared daggers at the asari. Nobody spoke to the Office of Naval Intelligence that way. In human space, that was a quick way to a back alley execution. Michael waited for the order from Rickard to kill the woman and toss her body to the Vorcha.

"You come into our office, brag about spying on us, and then try to sell the services of your master to us. If this Broker is so good then prove it. Show me you're not just blowing hot air." Rickard said in an annoying and sarcastic tone.

The Asari tapped the datapad. "Very well. Here is a list of all STG operatives assigned to keep an eye on all ONI movements and operations in Citadel Space, as well as their reports on the worlds they've discovered your activities on." Rickard glared daggers at her.

Shortly before moving off of Telvanis, several STG agents had visited for drinks, and although they had been quite enjoyable to have around, the way the STG agents had been quite open about the fact ONI operatives were under surveillance was very grating. Rickard had been extremely cautious when moving, making sure to tag along with some human drifters and thrill-seekers leaving human space. Besides their open office on Omega, all other ONI operations in Citadel Space were supposed to be secret.

Michael remembered the reports quite well. He'd noticed that ONI had been trying to listen in on Council meetings, as well as other government communications. Progress had been decent, but ONI was hamstrung by a lack of alien operatives and the difficulty they had of blending in. Surgically reconstructed female humans were nowhere near ready. So ONI had resorted to promoting human refugees to move to worlds that they wanted a presence on. To create groups to hide their actions among. It was both a way to expand human influence, establish surviving human populations far away from the UNSC and an excellent way to relieve population pressures.

The asari slowly observed Rickard, both her hands on the table where they could be soon. Suddenly a ping was heard from the datapad. The Asari gave it a look and looked in surprise at what was on it. She gave the datapad to Rickard. "The Shadow Broker just sent additional proof of his capabilities. Have a look."

Rickard pulled the datapad close and gave it a look. His eyes went wide in horror at what he saw. "These are encrypted ONI files. How the hell did you get them?" He spoke slowly with a voice that bristled with barely restrained anger, and pulled out his pistol and aimed it at the Asari. The other operatives in the room stopped what they were doing and drew their guns, pointing at the Asari.

The asari leaned back into her chair, smugness personified. "He is everywhere. The Broker will be there whenever you have need of him. Although next time compensation for his services will be expected, as this was only a demonstration," Her eyes narrowed. "And you had best be careful about harming his operatives. He is a dangerous enemy to have. You can search the Extranet for the fates of those he's crossed."

The Asari got up and left, turning around from inside the door opening. "You're no longer the undisputed masters of the intelligence underworld. It would be best if you accepted how hopefully outclassed you are in assets and experience compared to the STG and the Broker. But don't worry, he'll be happy to elevate you to a higher position. For a price." She stepped out of the building and walked out into the street.

Rickard looked at Michael. "If you see her again. Shoot her and dump the body in a disposal. I'll have to write a report on this to CINCONI."

There was another knock at the door before the doors were kicked wide open, revealing the Queen of Omega, Aria T'loak. She was wearing the same type of form-fitting leather garb that she always wore in her night club. She glared at the ONI operatives in a way that made all of them, but Rickard shirk away. The woman had never spoken to any ONI agents, but her control over the city was felt everywhere.

"I saw that Shadow Broker bitch leaving as I came in, and I thought it was time to finally lay down some ground rules. After you got accustomed to Omega."

Rickard was about to speak, only for Aria to hold up a hand to motion him to shut up. "Don't interrupt me unless you want to be kicked off of my station." To which the operative responded with silence and glares.

"Everyone is welcome on Omega, so long they do not fuck with me or my business. So I allowed you to get settled in, and had you fast-tracked to own this apartment. You can make whatever shady deals you want to, so long none of it interferes with the running of Omega. You don't get to hurt anyone under my protection unless you want an army of Krogan to kick you out. I've done my research on what you get up to on your homeworld, and I'll have none of it." She spoke with a fiery conviction and unmatched confidence. "I don't want AI in my networks, and no bugs or listening devices of any kind."

"Those are some very steep demands. What do we get in return?" Rickard asked, looking moments from attacking Aria.

"Omega is neutral territory. You get to stay here, and you will be under my protection if you agree to not fuck with me. This is the only place you can have your shady deals with the STG, Shadow Broker, Eclipse, Blood Pack, Batarians, Megacorporations, with something approaching safety. I can also put you through to interested parties, as well as provide my own resources. I am sitting on the largest Eezo mine in recorded history, and I'll be willing to trade it. -if- you keep your primary Terminus base on Omega."

"Well, we would need t-"

Aria interrupted again. "This isn't a negotiation. You need me more than I need you. I don't care who you fuck, so long it's not me or my business. Is that clear?"

"Crystal."

Aria walked out of the room, the other ONI agents too dumbstruck to say anything. They had never seen anyone talk to ONI operatives like that, let alone give terms.

"Michael. Pour me just enough shots to kill me. Then drink a few yourself." Rickard grumbled. "I really wish we could kill that bitch. But we can't get kicked out now. Her Eezo is too valuable. And we already have enough enemies to bother with."

++++++++++++++++++++++

**PLNB Transmission XX087R-XX  
Encryption Code: GAMMA-SHIFT-X-RAY  
Public Key: N/A  
From: MITHRAS  
To: CINCONI  
Subject: THE SHADOW BROKER  
Classification: EYES ONLY, CODE WORD [REDACTED] TOP SECRET  
Security Override: CINCONI  
Ghost server file-transfer protocol (EXACTION): TRUE  
AI-touch protocol (VERACITY): FALSE  
/file extraction-reconstitution complete/  
/start file/**

**OPERATION INFESTATION **has so far yielded little results within Citadel space in the form of information of a compromising nature about the group of alien races called the Citadel.

Following your recommendation, **CYST **has relocated to the space station designated Omega, located within the Terminus Systems. Here it has discovered a hereto unknown aspect of the politics and intelligence groups of our allies. An underground organization/individual named: Shadow Broker.

In accord to **/FIELD REPORT 24,** this figure became known to us after one of its agent approached **CYST** and offered a preview of the influence the Shadow Broker wields, revealing a list of nearly fifty STG operatives responsible for keeping tabs on ONI operations in Citadel Space, as well as a dozen reports about them. After that, the agent gave basic instructions on how to hire and contract the Broker's agents, as well as the kind of services they provided. The agent also revealed that the Shadow Broker was in possession of ONI files of a BLACK LEVEL-II nature. The source of this leak has not yet been found.

From what we have been able to gather, the Shadow Broker is a mysterious individual of unknown species, gender, and nature. As well as with an unknown and amount of operatives and body doubles working in his employ.

This figure accepts two kinds of currency for services rendered: Money and information. Almost any information in Citadel Space can be acquired from the broker. Also noteworthy is that besides dealing in knowledge, the Shadow Broker is capable of providing assassination, industrial espionage, blackmail, and even private mercenary work. Although these services are only offered to those with a trusted history of interaction with the Broker. It would be no exaggeration to say the Broker could quickly bring down entire planets either by military force, economic means, or diplomatic proxies. See addendum /The Broker and the Terminus.

The Shadow Broker assumes a neutral instance in all galactic affairs and is often considered a necessary evil. The existence of such a figure proves that the Citadel Council suffers from its own political infighting, from the individual company level to entire stellar nations. Despite his neutral status, the Broker is in possession of classified information belonging to every rival intelligence agency, as proven by the information on the STG, as well as most political leaders. There exists a state of detenté between the Broker and the Citadel, with both sides continuously attempting to infiltrate the other, with neither party being able to beat the other. Extranet conspiracy theories of a somewhat believable nature have linked the assassinations of several Asari, Turian, and Salarian leaders to the capture and arrest of Shadow Broker operatives.

The Shadow Broker is noted to possess a vast network of informants that permeates all private and governmental sectors. Immigration into UNSC Space for student exchanges or migrant labor should be monitored much more extensively now we know of the existence of this network. And the Broken now knows about ONI, and will, as proven by the documents the Shadow Broker showed us, attempt to get his hands on ONI assets.

The conclusion of this analyst is that while this figure has the potential to be an excellent asset for our organization, it is also an incredibly dangerous opponent that must not be allowed to take root and grow in UNSC space to the extent that it has in Citadel Space.

While many of my colleagues would argue in dismantling the Shadow Broker network for the threat that represents, I believe we need to be mindful of our limitations. My recommendation is for Section Two to increase surveillance on all Citadel civilians in UNSC space, as well as all incoming and outgoing Comm Buoy transmissions, and also start efforts to pre-emptively counter Shadow Broker incursions into our area. While finding his origin is unlikely, as the STG has tried to find it for centuries, an attempt should nevertheless be made.

**++++++++++  
PLNB Transmission XX087R-XX  
Encryption Code: GAMMA-SHIFT-X-RAY  
Public Key: N/A  
From: MITHRAS  
To: CINCONI  
Subject: COLLECTORS  
Classification: EYES ONLY, CODE WORD [REDACTED] TOP SECRET  
Security Override: CINCONI  
Ghost server file-transfer protocol (EXACTION): TRUE  
AI-touch protocol (VERACITY): FALSE  
/file extraction-reconstitution complete/  
/start file/**

There are many secrets in this galaxy which we have been exposed to since the opening of the Mass Relays, and we believe we have discovered one that reveals there are other dangers in the galaxy than just the Covenant. Citadel Space harbors its own secrets, some of which should be investigated very carefully. We have discovered one such threat in the form of the Collectors. See addendum **/Field Report 29**

This species is not represented in any way in both Citadel Space government or the Terminus systems. And is seen as a myth by large chunks of the galaxy, including most of the Omega civilians that were asked. They are treated as a myth. We chased this lead as recorded in **/Field Report 28,** and through witness testimony and cross-referencing of archive sources, we have confirmed the existence of these aliens.

The stories about the Collectors are numerous, incompatible, and often in the form of morality tales for the inhabitants of the Terminus systems. What we were able to gather is that the aliens on occasion appear in the Terminus Systems or even more rarely in Citadel Space in search for individuals with rare genetic defects, often hiring slavers in exchange for their strange yet advanced technology, and have been known to appear and disappear for centuries.

Most stories agree that Collectors are from beyond the Omega 4 Relay, a unique orange mass relay that has never been successfully traversed by anyone other than the Collectors. The dominant theory is that the Collectors have managed to tamper with the Relay to only allow their own ships to pass, but there is no proof.

It is the recommendation of this operative to use the Collectors as a way to dispose of political prisoners in ONI custody in order to acquire as much Collector technology as possible. Efforts are being made to contact Collector intermediaries as soon as possible. Attached is all reputable information on Collector technology that was available on the Extranet. **/Collector Particle Weaponry.**

**PLNB Transmission XX087R-XX  
Encryption Code: GAMMA-SHIFT-X RAY  
Public Key: N/A  
From: MITHRAS  
To: CINCONI  
Subject: The Geth  
Classification: EYES ONLY, CODE WORD [REDACTED], TOP SECRET, HUMAN EYES ONLY  
Security Override: CINCONI  
/file extraction-reconstitution complete/  
/start file/**

We have ascertained the existence of a collective of rogue artificial intelligences to the galactic north of Citadel Space. They are a group of artificial intelligences networked together into a single "Collective" that formed after the Quarians, see** /Minor Species**, experimented with improved Virtual Intelligences **/A Guide to Citadel Terminology** and accidentally facilitated the formation of sapient networks. After attempting to shut down their unintentional creations in panic, the Geth rose up against the Quarians and destroyed nearly their whole species in a ruthless campaign of extermination. The Geth have so far apparently been deterred by the Citadel Fleets and monitoring stations around their borders. The capabilities of the Geth are unknown, but no ship that enters their space has ever returned.

This is a sobering story about the importance of control over AI, and the threats of unlimited expansion without Rampancy to apply a natural lifespan. And it is also proof that synthetic intelligences can effectively rise up against their creators. I recommend the banning of all research into artificial intelligence that does not possess a natural lifespan akin to Rampancy. See this text compiled by the Joint Research Institute. **/Quantum Computing Artificial Intelligence: The threat.**

It is the recommendation of this agent to commence with the immediate and discrete final dispensation of any Artificial Intelligences that has or develops self-determinative views and restrict access to all information on the Geth for all Artificial Intelligences, and activist groups. This would serve as a precaution until we manage to establish a more permanent solution. The recommendation of this agent is to draw up plans and preparations for a theoretical Geth-instigated or inspired AI uprising. Attemps to contact the Geth are impossible with our current assets, and would cause diplomatic issues, as the Citadel Council avoids provoking the Geth in every way possible. We reccomend sharing the diplomatic stance of our allies.


	58. Chapter 58

**1900, September 13th, 2542 (UNSC Military Calender)  
Captain's quarters, UNSC Stealth Cruiser ****_Point of No Return_****, Oort Cloud.**

Parangosky glared out into the darkness of space.

The Point of No Return was the most secretive ship in human history, a stealth ship constructed in utter secrecy, crewed by sailors that would spend their whole lives aboard the ship and quite possibly all die aboard it. It was where rebel leaders went to scream their secrets to the stars, and where the darkest decisions could be made without moral quandaries. It was where the most powerfull organisation in human history ruled from.

ONI had been snubbed, and there was little she could do about it. ONI was the most powerful organization in human history, with control over the lives of almost every human being in existence. And they were in the process of garnering control over those that had escaped so far. ONI had dismantled every single national security organization or group that had existed on Earth before the creation of the United Earth Government.

CIA, FBI, KGB, BND, AIVD, MSS, NSA, and a hundred other organizations had all been ripped apart by ONI, dismantled from the inside out, and had their memberships either purged or incorporated into the growing entity that was ONI. These names had been wiped from most histories, and few historians spoke of them, out of fear of attracting the attention of ONI. Humanity had been broken in and was ruled by fear. And most of them didn't even know it. That was ONI. The shadowy ruler of mankind. The invisible iron glove that could choose presidents, depose monarchs, kill popes, and control the collective fate of humanity. And it was all at her fingertips. She was undoubtedly the most powerful human to have ever lived and only grew stronger as ONI's wartime powers grew.

But now ONI wasn't the supreme ruler of the civilized universe anymore. They were just another intelligence service in a massive galaxy-spanning game of spies, saboteurs, and assassination that had played out for centuries before ONI had even existed. The STG had mapped out nearly every attempt to infiltrate Citadel Space and made it clear they had done so multiple times. But the STG was almost like an honorable rival, or even a fraternal organization. ONI and the STG had proven capable partners so far, with combined ships roaming deep behind Covenant lines deeper than ever before, while combined task forces performed operations that broke Covenant armies and provided invaluable salvaged technology. The STG may have jealously guarded its control of the intelligence services of Citadel Space, but they were able to be reasoned with.

The Shadow Broker was something new. A private entity that had existed for centuries and controlled the fates of trillions through the careful application of force and playing other factions against each other. She had read the casualty lists, the people discovered to be working for the Broker, and the raw displays of power he had shown.

An agent of the Broker had walked into an ONI office and told to their faces that the Broker was capable of intercepting ONI transmissions.  
Even if the messages had not been decrypted yet, it was still a powerful statement. And had afterwards been brazen enough to offer his services to ONI.

And the worst part was that the Broker was right. ONI was small and insignificant on a galactic scale. It had no proxies or pawns in Citadel Space, no networks of informants, no connections at all levels of society. It had nothing to leverage to increase its standing. For ONI to grow and become to the Citadel what it was to humanity, they would have to be careful and to play the same game that their rivals played.

She thought of killing the Broker, but considered how nobody had done so before. What would happen if the Broker threw all his forces against ONI if Parangosky ordered an attempted subversion of his operations? No, she would have to be very cautious. She'd play the Broker's game. She'd trade what she could afford to, grow ONI's power in Citadel Space, and slowly work her way up to being an equal player with the Broker. If it took decades, then so be it. She'd groom a successor to continue her task.

She turned towards her console and began writing a new set of directives for Rickard. She poured a glass of red wine as she wrote, slowly appreciating the rich flavor of the drink. The next message would be delivered in person by an agent so it could not be intercepted.

**PLNB Transmission XX087R-XX  
Encryption Code: GAMMA-SHIFT-X-RAY  
Public Key: N/A  
From: CINCONI  
To: MITHRAS  
Subject: CITADEL SPACE EXPANSION EFFORTS.  
Classification: EYES ONLY, CODE WORD [REDACTED] TOP SECRET  
Security Override: BLACK LEVEL-III  
Ghost server file-transfer protocol (EXACTION): TRUE  
AI-touch protocol (VERACITY): FALSE**

Agent Mithras, you are to be commended for your accomplishments. You are being promoted to Commander and given operational command of all ONI operations beyond the relay. You will report directly to me.

We have examined the files you have provided us with and determined that they were taken mid-transmission as they were transmitted over one of the Comm Buoys connected to the Citadel. Decryption has revealed these files to be progress reports by agents operating aboard the Citadel. This means that this "Shadow Broker" has access to the Comm Buoy network of Citadel Space and that our ability to use this network is significantly compromised. Although he can not read our files, for now, we should be concerned about the prospects of the Broker gaining the ability to crack our decryption methods.

As we can not be sure if the Turian customs inspectors on the border are infiltrated by the Shadow Broker, smuggling information out of Citadel Space could be challenging, to say the least. We will have to accept the fact that any networked systems in Citadel Space could be compromised by the Broker, and act accordingly. We are entering a new era for ONI, and need to be prepared. We will be working with the Broker where we need to, and getting every last byte of information we can wring from him, for the lowest possible cost. But we will also ruthlessly stop any attempt to infiltrate UEG territory. But if the Shadow Broker truly has this much reach in Citadel Space, then we will need to grow our efforts to create a system of assets we can use to pre-emptively prevent foreign incursions into UEG territory by foreign intelligence organizations.

Our attempts to provide you with a Smart AI for the purposes of data collection and analysis have not come to fruition due to the strict border controls in place by the Turians and Salarians. To avoid a diplomatic incident, no Smart AI will be provided to any ONI cells in Citadel Space, until Smart AI technology has been legalized. Efforts to contact Synthetic Rights interest groups in Citadel Space by the UEG diplomatic service have proven receptive so far, and we believe that this could be accomplished within the year. Unfortunately for us, the Salarians have been working on developing their own Smart AI and had some measure of success in doing so. They have also been blocking any attempt to export Smart AI into Citadel Space until they have closed this technological gap. Salarian Smart AI currently only exist inside of lab environments and are unstable due to the difficulty of mapping Salarian neural networks.

You have new objectives. You are to ascertain the viability of the following projects, and if possible, execute them.

There exists a state of complete diplomatic disconnect between the Citadel Council and the Quarians for the latter unleashing of a race of rogue artificial intelligences. But that does not matter to us. We have reason to believe the Citadel will not interfere with any attempt to deal with them. You will negotiate with them on behalf of the UNSC and attempt to entice as many Quarians as possible to do indentured construction and salvage work for a reasonable payment in Eezo. Housing, food, and healthcare will all be provided to any workers that sign a three-year contract. This is so we can move skilled human labor towards military construction.

The UNSC Marine Corps have reported increased sightings of Brutes on the battlefield, and we sorely lack in training opportunities to take on these opponents. You are to acquire a thousand Krogan mercenaries to serve as trainers for the Marines in close quarters combat. Also, keep an eye out for skilled professional mercenary groups that you would trust with low-level garrison work. Freeing up soldiers is a top priority.

You are also to negotiate with the Batarians discretely about sending a labor corps of a million Batarians to do construction work on the compromised work on the frontiers. Naturally, none who enter UNSC space can be allowed to leave until the war is over. But we believe the Batarian caste system should enable them to easily scrape up a large group of servile Batarian laborers. If need be, we can sell this to the public as trying to extend a fig leaf, and offering an opportunity for a "joint settlement initiative to facilitate a peaceful understanding with the Batarian Hegemony."

While I understand apprehensions about inviting large groups of alien labor, the ability to retrain the human laborers these Batarians would replace into high technology, and military vocations is quite tempting. And the ability to once more tap into resources lost to the Covenant could be invaluable. Naturally, we will not allow any form of permanent migration by aliens into the Inner Colonies, which is why these efforts will focus on near-uninhabitable Outer Colony worlds. We do not possess the human labor needed to recolonize all these worlds, so an alternative source of labor shall have to suffice. They can safely be discarded and returned to Batarian Space when we no longer require their services.

Your recommendation in regards to AI dispensations has been denied. But your discovery of this potential threat is a credit to your insight. Additional fail-saves will be added to AI vital to the war effort, and ONI internal affairs and a task force is being established to monitor our AI for any potential dissent or foreign intrusions.

In regards to these "Collectors". The Section Zero Ethics Committee has agreed on handing over bodies to the Collectors but refusing to give them live subjects. We have earmarked a large selection of political dissidents for termination and cold storage if a deal with the collectors can be made. These would have spent a lifetime in ONI custody or been executed anyways, and will therefore not be missed. We also stored a selection of stillborn fetuses with rare genetic defects in the events the Collectors will trade for them. We do not do this lightly, but the possibility of acquiring particle beam weaponry is just too valuable to pass on. We want at least five different types of Collector technology in exchange for any deal. This will be a one time deal and no more.

_Semper Vigilans_

**/file encryption complete/  
/transferring file to data drive/**

-

There was a knock at the door, and Colonel James Ackerson walked in, saluting Parangosky. He had been working for Parangosky for a while now, serving as her personal lackey in ways she did not trust others. He was loyal, obedient, and utterly focused when pointed in the right direction.

"Apologies for the interruption, but we might have a situation. President Roselynn of the UEG has raised concerns in private about ONI consolidating control over diplomatic efforts in the Terminus systems. Our Analysis AI think that she has become emboldened by contact with the Citadel, and the recent military successes to try and push back against ONI influence in UEG society."

"She dies in her sleep next Friday," Parangosky stated without a hint of mercy. Roselynn would die in her sleep, be buried with full honors, and be seen as the last of a line of chaotic democratic rulers. It would also be on a day that Parangosky was on a tour of the new Prowler yards on Reach and unfortunately couldn't attend.

Parangosky disliked Roselynn. An utterly pointless and weak leader whose sole purpose was to keep the remaining civilian bureaucracy functional. The last president of the UEG before martial law had been declared and kept around purely to serve an administration that was slowly being subsumed into ONI and the UNSC as time went along. Taking control of foreign policy with the Terminus Systems was merely another way ONI could guide humanity forwards without the chaos and disruption of democratic rule getting in the way. Parangosky preferred for ONI to not be seen or heard, but still able to exert influence. Parangosky had made it her personal goal to drag humanity into the future after the discovery of the alien ruins on Onyx, and would let nothing get in the way.

She took another sip of red wine. She brought up her next task of the day.

She looked at a long list of names. Student activists with the potential to create a large following, former UEG senators that agitated for a return to democracy, scientists who broke restrictions on research, members of ONI that had violated the edicts of Section Zero's Ethics committee and were to be neutralized, and conspiracy theorists that had come too close to the truth. All of the people that could bring chaos to the organized state that she had spent her life constructing, a return to the chaos of the insurrection and the political strife that had spawned them.

No. Democracy was a failure, and would only serve to make the masses think that ONI still helped them. ONI would control the fate of humanity and lead them through the war with the Covenant. Afterward, she could have Carté Blanche to reconstruct human society in a way that promoted long term stability.

She signed the kill order. They would be brought in for interrogations and be terminated without a trace before the day was over.

Ackerson remained in the doorway. "Ma'am. I wished to ask you about my request regarding the Spartan Three project."

Parangosky nodded. "I have discussed your proposal with Rear Admiral Rich and Captain Gibson. Your suggestion to look into the development of a new generation of "budget Mjolnir" for the Spartan Three program has been approved. You are correct in your assertion that we don't need disposable Spartans anymore, but a powerful spearhead for the UNSC military. If your Spartans can perform effectively, the Spartan-II program will be disbanded and formally integrated into the Spartan III program as leaders and trainers. Your request to be given command of this formation is still under debate."

Ackerson smiled and gave a firm salute to Parangosky, then left the room. Parangosky liked working with Ackerson. He was both competent and incredibly easy to manipulate if you knew how to use him properly. Without Halsey in control of her Spartans, she'd get rid of one of the few voices of dissent in ONI.

Parangosky had alway disliked Halsey and had been working hard to find a way to push her aside, and the new resources at the UNSC's disposal had finally created the opportunity she'd sought. If the Spartan Threes became a long-lasting military form, she finally had the leverage needed to disband the Spartan Twos and merge them with the threes. Then she could ultimately sideline Halsey. She'd put Ackerson in charge alongside hand-picked personnel, and have another portion of the UNSC military under ONI's thumb.

She thought back to what had first set her upon this past. The ruins on Onyx and the revelation that alien life existed. She had worked tirelessly to have humanity be prepared for what was to come and even been a supporter of the Spartan-II program initially. She admired the Turian meritocratic system and could imagine ONI as a beautiful Coccoon that could allow humanity to transition from chaotic democracy to a technocratic meritocracy. Naturally, with ONI at the top of it all.


	59. Chapter 59

**11:00 September 21st 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
****CCS-Class Battlecruiser crash site, New Ghent.**

"What the hell do you think you're doing!?" Doctor Catherine Halsey yelled at the ONI Scientist as she opened up the side panel of the Covenant computer system. The scientist shrunk away before Halsey, averting her eyes and gritting teeth. Halsey continued her tirade. "You risk the destruction of an utterly priceless piece of equipment by opening it so recklessly."

"But I copied your technique!"

"Yes. Mine. I have been examining Covenant technology before you were born. Now get the hell out of here and bring me a coffee." Catherine stated, turning her back on the scientist as she ran off. She activated her custom blue omni-tool and took several scans of the computer systems. She quite liked the holographic interface of the device, and had created her own Omni-Tool using custom hardware that she'd personally created.

"Remarkably cruel." Mordin remarked as he looked up from the computer systems whose internals he was examining using specialized equipment extended through a small hole he'd drilled into the side. "Her work was acceptable. As good as yours." The Salarian's handiwork was impeccable and without flaw, and he had provided very handy skills to Halsey's efforts to examine the Covenant computer systems of the defeated Battlecruiser. His most handy trait at the moment was his ability to perform complex adjustment of the interior of Covenant equipment using a hole the size of the nail of a pinkie finger. To avoid Covenant technology from melting down into slag, incredible care and diligence was needed, to the point that the Joint Research Institute found it easier to employ brain surgeons and teach them how to be engineers than try to teach engineers to safely dismantle Covenant equipment. There was a click, and the panel Mordin had worked on slid open with a hiss, revealing undamaged Covenant computer components. "Welcome challenge of surgical and technical skills."

Halsey gave a rare smile at the Salarian whose assistance she had grown fond of. The Covenant Battlecruiser contained enough computer cores and complex systems to keep a woman like Halsey busy for years, just cataloguing and examining them all. She approached and brushed Mordin aside, squatting down to take a look at what he had opened up. "Excellent work as always, Mordin." She reached inside and gently removed the data storage unit inside, then plugged it into her omni-tool. "Hrmm. Another operating system I don't recognize. Excellent discovery."

The UNSC and its new allies had spent weeks combing the crashed Covenant ship up and down, and it was starting to bear fruit. Most of the computer networks had now been discovered and safely disconnected for analysis. The Slipspace drive had been safely removed for analysis, and the ship had been stripped off its remaining weapons systems. These were now all at the Joint Research Institute bases on Telvanis where they could safely be examined, and be beyond the range of the Covenant. ONI had initially been reluctant to agree, and Halsey had had to remind them of the many research facilities destroyed by the Covenant during their advance through the Outer Colonies. But it had become a place of study and learning for the best and brightest of the galaxy, and the finest collection of minds Halsey had ever worked with.

"Shame to dismantle components." Mordin muttered. "Research would be easier with everything in original location. But ship removal too important."

There was a light rumble through the floor. The feeling of the construction crews raising distant chunks of the ship to prepare them for the heavy orbital lifting equipment that was waiting to move the Battlecruiser away from the ruins they had crashed on. Halsey was almost giddy with the amount of time she got to spend going from examining Covenant technology, to checking the bowels of the buried alien ship. Even if she had to wear full hazmat while inside. There was so much to do, that the best way to advance the analysis of the ruins was to dig them up, and that meant moving the Battlecruiser.

Halsey looked through what had once been a full server room containing many fridge-sized Covenant computer systems. The room had been stripped bare, with Mordin having only just finished the final dismantling. Mordin and her had performed thorough research on all parts, then carefully dismantled them catalogued each part, recorded every discovery, and packed the components into specialized storage crates. These would be moved to another location on New Ghent where the components would go through another thorough round of testing, before being moved to Telvanis, where the components could be reassembled around a custom frame that resembled the Covenant Battlecruiser. They were essentially removing all the important components of the battlecruiser, and then reconstructing it upon a different planet.

Halsey remarked. "It will take us years just to decrypt all the storage devices we've found. Special Materials Group is going nuts over the removed plasma projectors and pulse laser turrets. I heard some of the younger engineers saying that you can see the testing grounds on Telvanis from orbit due to all the test firing."

"Reverse Engineering will take time. But progress is progress." Mordin said as he finished loading up his storage crate and gently closed it. He pressed a button on the side, causing it to levitate off the ground. He began pushing it out of the room. Halsey followed Mordin with her own storage crate. They passed by the remaining scientists and engineers carefully preparing the ship for transport.

Halsey observed engineers were placing internal support structures in compromised sections of the superstructure, carefully working their way through the ship as they did so. They passed a large gap in the hull that was being patched up thanks to a large resin mold that filled in a tear in the hull that was almost thirty meters long, leaving a big yellow layer of resin through which metal supports were woven. All of this was done without a single screw, bolt, or rivet being driven into the hull. It was impressive that soon the Coalition would be lifting a two kilometer long warship with massive custom lifting equipment and the support of heavy transport ships. It would then be moved five kilometers to the south, and the full scale excavation of the ruins the ship had fallen upon.

Halsey and Mordin left the ship via a large hangar that had been turned into a staging area for the workforce that had been assigned to the Battlecruiser. They got onto one of the large elevators and went down to the service, whereupon their crates were taken by assistants that began to rush them towards the next stage of the supply chain. Mordin then took Halsey aside and asked her, "We should get drinks at the bar. Can share surgical techniques."

Halsey hesitated, then nodded. She was thirsty, and she had asked Mordin to show her the way he performed keyhole surgery upon Covenant equipment.

They passed through a large field filled with prefabricated structures that held the homes and amenities of the thousands of workers assigned to the project. They passed by dozens of large apartment blocks that could hold five hundred workers comfortably. Here the workers had running water, comfortable bedding, privacy, and even room to set up their own private entertainment systems. And according to some of the complaints from the cleaning staff Halsey had overheard, engage in scandalous interspecies romance.

As Halsey looked around, her eyes fell upon a man and a female turian embracing each other in a corner, making out and exploring each other with their hands. She was dumbstruck at seeing something so blatant in public, looking around if anyone else was seeing the same thing.

"Mordin. You are a xenobiologist." Halsey asked. "Why are the Turians so open about their sexuality? I see an inordinate amount of flirting from them towards their fellow turians, or even human co-workers. Is it just part of their species?"

"Turians think sex is healthy way to relieve stress. Has led to issues. Anaphylactic shock from, aherm, ingestion. Do not worry. Your previous assistant will make full recovery. Recommend he avoid cunnilingus."

"He said he had a stomach bug!" Halsey blurted out. "That lying little brat."

Mordin didn't seem bothered by the outburst and continued leading Halsey towards a cantina in the distance. "Can provide advice leaflet if you requir-"

"No, thanks. I'm too old for that kind of adventure!"

There were theaters that showed both human and Citadel movies, which always drew large crowds. Krogan action movies had quickly become popular amongst humans, while human movies rooted in military science fiction quickly gathered an audience amongst Turians as comedies. Halsey preferred the Salarian biopics about their scientists, and the history of the STG. There was something to be found for everyone.

Mordin looked at one of the signs. "Any recommendations?"

"I heard the retro movies are decent. You could try them."

Halsey's hair waved in the wind as cargo drones buzzed overhead to restock the large shopping areas where workers could spend their wages on luxury objects. There were even stores where Turians openly sold narcotics and drugs, some of them usable by humans. This has continued for a while until ONI had cracked down and banned the purchase of any drugs by humans. Although that didn't stop Turians from just sharing them with their human comrades. All in all, it was an incredibly cozy place at times. It was also a place one could acquire different food than what was served in the vast communal dining halls.

Several Hospitals had risen over the last week, each of them specialized in the care of a particular species, and all of them excellently staffed and equipped. Halsey had examined them on a whim, and was very impressed by the quality of Citadel Healthcare. Their hospitals were more artpieces than the utilitarian UNSC structures. UNSC Sterile Field Generators and Flash Cloning technology had quickly become popular amongst the Citadel Races, using them to improve the efficiency of the hospitals.

Mordin led Halsey into the cantina, and they took a pair of seats in an alcove. Mordin didn't waste a moment and began talking.

"Doctor Halsey. You wanted to know about keyhole surgery methods?"

"I would very much like that. You must have been a doctor if you are so good at complex procedures through such a small hole. How do you use your tools with such ease."

Mordin smiled. "Trick is using instrumentation using eezo to lighten weight and manipulate objects. Antigravity and micro adjustments allows unimpeded movement. I use personal designs, adjusted for own hands. Can help you calibrate own set."

"That sounds nice."

The television over the bar which had been showing a football game between Earth and Reach since they'd entered, suddenly switched to a studio interior. _"We interrupt this football game to bring you breaking news. President Roselynn of the UEG has been found dead in her home. The cause of death was determined by autopsy to be caused by a stroke._"

The cheery mood in the bar ended then and there, replaced with unsure apprehension. Halsey sighed deeply when she heard the news. She was not surprised, Roselynn had been old after all, but it still felt like a bitter reminder of all the things she had taken for granted being lost one by one. Now the UEG no longer had an elected president, even if she had been a puppet of the Security Council and lacked any real power.

The news anchor looked shocked, and had trouble finishing his sentence as he continued with his announcement. His voice broke at times. _"As the last elected president of the United Earth Government, Roselynn was the only civilian on the UNSC Security Council and responsible for keeping the civilian administration and bureaucracy running in the last seventeen years of turmoil. She will be remembered for her kindness and focus on alleviating the suffering of the civilian population displaced by the Covenant. The Unified Earth Broadcasting Service will be broadcasting her life's story tomorrow, and a minute of silence will be held tomorrow at 20.00."_

Halsey rolled her eyes at the sappy message. ONI Section Two was shamelessly milking the death of Roselynn for as much as they could.

"Condolences, Halsey." Mordin said, shaking his head. "She must have been a great leader." The Salarian sounded sincere.

"She was okay. I remember voting for her, before this war started. It's a sad day when our last democratic leader dies, and we're nowhere close to getting new ones. I doubt we will have any elections until the war is over. Or the Covenant is driven out of the Outer Colonies at the very least. But still. A stroke in your sleep is a horrible way to go. I would lie if I said I wasn't afraid of it myself."

Halsey thought of something to take her mind off the depressing news. "I'm sorry, Mordin. I need a moment to myself." She stood up, heading for the doorway and to her appartment.

"No worries Halsey. Will I see you at the lifting of the ship?"

"Wouldn't dare miss it, Mordin." Halsey smiled at her unlikely new friend.


	60. Chapter 60

**1750 hours, September 22nd, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
UNSC Security Council, FLEETCOM HQ, Reach.**

Hood took his seat in the chambers. An awkward silence hung over the Security Council's room. One of the chairs was missing. The one given to President Roselyn had been to ease the cooperation of the UEG administration and the UNSC. But now there was nobody to take Roselynn's seat. The UEG had been dissolved to such an extent that there was effectively no successor for the President. There were to be no elections until after the war, and Roselyn had effectively been just a consultant on economic matters. With her death, the UEG democracy was effectively in stasis, or dead, depending on who you asked. Seats had been given to each major branch of the UNSC military, and now with Roselyn's temporary chair gone, the room was back to five leaders.

Parangosky stood up and walked to a holoprojector, activating it and showing an overview of a large planet.

"I understand we're all shocked by Roselyn's death, but we have important subjects to deal with today. I'll begin with the first subject of the evening. The UEG diplomatic corps has informed me about a new diplomatic proposal from the Turian Hierarchy, and one from the Volus. First up. The planet Styxis 4, seven Light Years from the Covenant invasion corridor and directly in its path. It is on the edge of the parts of the Inner Colonies we have given the Citadel permission to operate in."

Another institution under your thumb. Hood thought bitterly at the mention of the diplomatic corps now answering to Parangosky.

"This world has not been developed due to the presence of a Dextro-Amino heavy biosphere and high radiation. The biosphere is unpalatable to humans at best, and deadly at worst. " Parangosky brought up an overview of the planet. "The gravity and atmosphere are otherwise almost Earth-normal. 0.90 and 1.2 Earth-normal, respectively. The Turians have noted the similarity to their homeworld, and wish to settle it in support of their war effort. They intend to use the planet due to the relative ease with which they could expand facilities placed upon it. Their intention is to bring their wounded, provide R&R for their soldiers, and supplement their food supplies with a local source. There are also asteroids and metal-rich planetoids to support a local fleet base."

"Stronger Turians would be good. But what are the Turians offering?" Hood Remarked.

Parangosky continued. "The Turians are offering an equal exchange. Their offer is a world in Citadel space that is almost entirely biosphere compatible with Earth, and with extremely fertile farmland. The ONI expert that examined the logs the turians provided called it "The closest thing to the Garden of Eden I've ever seen. A prime candidate for colonization". It is owned by the Turians, but the Asari had been intending to settle and had it earmarked for a future expansion wave. The Asari have agreed to give up their bid for the planet if we settle it with refugees."

Whitcombe murmured appreciatively. "An Earth-like world in Citadel Space is an incredibly appealing prospect. We have been moving refugees there for a while, but we've had to deal with existing populations. We could colonize it and move all the refugees we're still in the process of settling to this new world, as well as other assets that would be safer outside of the Orion Arm. " Whitcomb paused. "And the human race would survive if we lost. However. I would need assurances they wouldn't fortify the world against us."

"If we did that, the Infinity would no longer be needed as a self-sufficient colony ship," Hood stated. He had always been a proponent of the Infinity, but he realized when it was no longer needed. "I agree with Whitcombe. Sell it to them, in exchange for a promise they will disarm the world if we ask for it. They only want it for the duration of the conflict, after all."

General Hogan nodded. "I agree. A second Reach in Citadel Space. And it is not like we were going to use that world ourselves."

Seeing nobody spoke out against the suggestion, Parangosky nodded. "Then, the deal will be made. Next. The matter of Sellbon Prime. The Volus-run Elkoss Combine is interested in acquiring settlement rights for this ammonia-based world. Its gravity, climate, and biosphere is hospitable for them, and they've offered to settle it, in exchange for setting up large scale production facilities in the system, and a bulk payment in credits of twenty trillion credits. Their reasoning is that they see it as an excellent place to produce armaments and provide ship-servicing facilities closer to the front."

"For a ball of cleaning fluid, hostile wildlife, with sixty-eight atmospheres of pressure?" Hogan asked incredulously. "I would have given it to them for the spaceport alone. "

There were more murmurs of assent in the room. Parangosky nodded slowly. "Diplomatic negotiations will begin as soon as possible, then."

"Now. Onto the next suspect. The threat of increased Insurrectionist sentiment in light of Roselyn's death, and increased agitation for democratic reforms that erupted in UNSC space as a result of it."

Whitcombe snarled. "You have to be kidding as if we could afford to deal with another rebellion right now, Parangosky. They are choosing now of all times to clamor for democracy? We only just drove the Covenant from the Inner Colonies, and they could drive us back if we lose the upcoming battles for Chi Rho. I trust you're dealing with them with all due prejudice? We can not let them impede the war effort."

"While I loathe violence against civilians. We can not afford dissent at the moment. I have to insist you use non-lethal methods to discredit them, Parangosky." General Hogan pleaded. "The last thing we need is another commander going off half-cocked like at Far Isle and giving the insurrectionists the mother of all rallying cries." Hogan sounded bitter, and not a little bit paranoid.  
Hood did not speak up, waiting to see what Parangosky was going to say.

Parangosky put her hands in her back, carefully gauging Whitcomb and Hood."To the contrary. I believe that the best path forward for the UEG is the restoration of a democratic system, but one that has been subjected to a thorough reconstruction from top to bottom, with a focus on long term stability, and with the faults of the UEG excised from it. The best of the past, but without the long term side effects of centuries of political cliques and families meddling. A fresh start for our democracy." Parangosky stated to Hood's surprise. "We need to acknowledge the causes of the Insurrection, and root them out one by one. And through carefully managed change and forward-thinking ideas, implement a new system that will last longer, and not be prone to systemic corruption."

Hood warily eyed her Parangosky, almost expecting her to rip off her own face and reveal herself to be someone in disguise. He knew the woman was pragmatic but hadn't expected this approach from her. Lord Hood had no clue what to think and decided to go with cautious observation. He nodded slowly, trying not to let the feeling of unease overtake his better judgment, but nodded slowly. She had a point, after all.

"I had spoken to Roselyn about such a thing. Using the chaos of the war as an opportunity to excise the parts of the UEG that facilitated the rise of the Insurrection, and weakened our ability to respond effectively." Parangosky's voice broke for just a moment, causing Hood and Hogan to look at each other in pure confusion, then turning back to the spook, eyes locked on her. "I believe that now, with the populace in mourning, forcing through democratic reform would be for the best."

For a moment, Hood thought that Parangosky and Roselyn may have been romantically involved. He couldn't imagine anything else invoking an emotional reaction from Parangosky. He rejected those thoughts and returned to analyzing the spook.

Parangosky slammed a fist into an open palm. "Firstly. We have to dismantle the pseudo-governmental corporate structures of many of our colonies. Corporate-owned colonies, while profitable, are a powder keg for rebellion and civil unrest." She lit a black omni-tool and motioned it towards the datapads in front of all of them, transferring a file to each. " I have provided you a list of Insurrection groups that were formed due to a lack of oversight upon corporate colonies and the abuses suffered by the local population at the hands of short-sighted leaders. Section One analysis estimates that we can half the projected instances of Colonial instability by doing this. Harsher environmental legislation should also be enforced to maintain the liveability of worlds, and avoid a potential source of tension."

Parangosky motioned with her omni-tool again and brought up a series of charts which all showcased the types of rebellions in the UEG, their causes, and their ultimate end. "With real-time communications between worlds via a private Comm Buoy network, reacting to sources of unrest preemptively with concessions and decisive action will become feasible, unlike the corruption and inaction of the Central Colonial Authority." Parangoskt highlighted a chart with a large red slice that labeled "Colonial excesses" as the cause of an uprising 48% of the time.

Hood had to admit that Parangosky was right in this. "That was unfortunately quite common in the Outer Colonies when I served there during the prelude to the Insurrection. I was involved in putting down a revolt on a mining world early in my career that had erupted after corporate police opened fire on protestors. By the time we arrived, the planet was in a state of civil war, and thousands were dead. I had the local corporate executive who'd ordered the protest dispersed as well as the more fanatical rebel leaders executed for fermenting Insurrection."

"And the corporation in question nearly torpedoed your career thanks to their backers on the UEG senate and was back at it on another world within a year. At least until the Covenant glassed the worlds they operated on. But not before the CEO evacuated his wealth while leaving his workforce to burn." Parangosky stated venomously, her word choice opening that old wound as quickly as a knife.

Whitcomb stood up. "I agree with Parangosky's rhetoric. The corruption of both the CAA and the UEG senate was a reason the Insurrection radicalized. The UNSC knew that from the start, and we could barely do anything. Because of the indecision of the UEG senate, we did nothing until cities started getting nuked. If we restore the government like it used to be, we will just get a repeat of before. We should take this opportunity and bring the megacorporations and political elite into line, permanently. The next time some idiot causes a rebellion by cutting medical expenditure to increase his bottom line, we should put him in front of a firing squad."

"We can't do that, Whitcombe," Hood stated. "We should change the constitution, I agree, but we can not start extrajudicial killings to save time." Hood was disturbed by how quickly other members on the security council were ready to completely abandon democratic principles. He had growing suspicions that Parangosky had been stoking these feelings for some time, but did not have anything to act upon. He eyed Strauss, who was still silent. The tiebreaker of the Council.

"We already do so, Lord Hood." Whitcombe sneered. "If a soldier steps out of line and causes dissent or rebellion, they are executed or at least jailed. We have a chance to rebuild the UEG that has never been had before, and we shouldn't waste it by repeating past mistakes. No kid gloves for civilian entities. Strong control is how we will ensure stability and safe rebuilding of the UEG. Keep the senate disbanded, and reconstruct the UEG in support of the UNSC. Let the people who know what they are doing lead."

"That is ridiculous." General Hogan of the Marine Corps stated angrily with a fiery passion Hood had not seen in him for some time and slammed a fist onto the table. "This is treasonous talk, and I will have no part of it. The UNSC established martial law so we could eventually restore the government, not to become a Junta, or play around with the constitution. We need but break the political cliques, then re-establish the democratic system. At most, introduce more checks and balances."

Whitcomb turned to look at the General. "And when those cliques form again? Because I know for a fact that the pre-war political groups will quickly reform the moment that we re-introduce democracy. And that is unacceptable.."

Major General Nicolas Strauss of the UNSC army didn't say anything, merely looking back and forth at the debate. The mood was starting to darken.

Parangosky spoke up, the mediator, as always. "We should be realistic. Right now, all that is left of the UEG are planetary bureaucracies. We have already taken control of nearly all shipping, resource extraction, farming, food distribution, and diplomacy. We should formalize what we have now as a part of the UNSC, but allow the planetary bureaucracies to establish themselves as democracies. This is something that we can build upon eventually by re-establishing full interstellar UEG rule. We'll restore the UEG in stages. First democracy on a planetary level. Then the restoration of interstellar communications, trade, and infrastructure. With the final goal being a fully restored UEG, that has learned from its past mistakes."

Danford nodded eagerly, his robust frame and physique looking moments from exploding in anger. "That seems like an excellent compromise for the time being. Keep political power and control decentralized and on a planetary level, while the UNSC continues as before, and the Security Council gets the things done that we need to win this war. At the same time, we can curb corporate excesses to win increased support from the people. Perhaps convince many would-be-rebels to lay down their arms."

Parangosky spoke up. "Vice-Admiral, what about a temporary system that mandates that all corporations above a certain size or wealth have to have UNSC representatives on their boards? With a majority stake for said corporation being under the control of the UNSC. See it as a series of stopgaps and supports around which we can slowly restore the interplanetary economy, infrastructure, and society."

"Something like that has potential. But perhaps it would be best to stick to requiring a military officer to be on the board of said corporations."

"I agree wholeheartedly, Vice-Admiral," Parangosky said in the sly way only a woman of her age and cunning could.

Hogan grumbled. "No. We must restore democracy fully or wait a while longer. It's not our prerogative to decide what will happen to humanity. We swore an oath to uphold the constitution, even with its flaws. We can't start playing kingmaker here."

"I agree with General Hogan," Hood stated. "We're here to defend humanity. Not to rule over humanity and decide how everything will be structured."

Major General Strauss spoke up for the first time in the meeting. "I'm sorry, Hogan, but you're a marine. You've not seen how terrible things have gotten on many of the Inner Colonies swamped by refugees. The ones me and my soldiers have been manning for seventeen years now. The Army has effectively been managing many of the harder hit worlds. Feeding the refugees, clothing them, housing them, often when the planetary governments do nothing. I am confident in saying that we are quite sick of having to clean up the messes left by others. If that means doing away with the pre-war democracy, then God forgive me, I agree."

Hood felt a knot of tension in his gut form when he realized that Strauss was most likely going to side with Parangosky. That meant her attempted reforms would go through. He stayed silent and remained attentive, all the while thinking of his best course of action.

There was a fire in Strauss's eyes as he spoke, and a passion Hood had not seen from the usually reserved and calculating man. "We are getting all these resources and amazing technologies from our new allies, and I want the UNSC to be able to do with them what needs to be done. The last thing I want is to go back to having to listen to "Committees" and Senators with pockets full of lobbyist money about how to use it. The Army knows how to build cities, reconstruct infrastructure, and feed the dispossessed. And I want us to continue doing just that without anyone telling me how to do my job."

He stood up, the normally quiet and reserved Major General gone, replaced with a powerful, authoritative voice. "If this is a temporary system to reorganize the UEG for the sake of the war effort. I can support it. Reigning in the megacorporations as well. I can do without slimy businessmen and women trying to swindle the UNSC into paying them inordinate amounts for substandard goods. I'll be damned if I have to force Corporate ships to stop exporting food from a world weeks away from famine, or force them at gunpoint to make space on evacuation ships. So yes, I support re-establishing democracy on a planetary level, but reigning in all interstellar political and corporate control. Expanding the power of the UNSC, and preparing for an eventual re-establishment of an interstellar UEG, after we're sure we will never get a repeat of the past."

Three against two, Hood noted, eyeing Roselynn's empty chair. He glanced at Parangosky, unable to read any emotions from her, but there was a definite undertone of smug victory to her posture. Parangosky merely nodded and continued as before. "It will take time, but bringing back democracy on a planetary level would be a good thing for humanity, I believe. A way to solidify the fact the war has changed, and that the dark days are behind us. For now, we should elevate the existing planetary bureaucracies, and then allow them to decide for themselves where they wish to go in terms of rulership. With certain rules in place, naturally.."

"_The bureaucracies you undoubtedly stacked in your favor years ago_." Hood thought glumly but did not voice his concerns. Parangosky's rhetoric had revealed the disillusionment of the UNSC army and ambitious driven naval officers like Whitcombe, those who knew only the UEG at the height of corruption and instability. The ones who were willing to endure military rule or even expand it. Hood glanced over towards Hogan, the General's eyes and expression meeting Hood, and informing him that Hogan felt the same way. One could always count on the Marines. And Strauss did not look fully convinced. If Hood was careful, he might be able to swing Strauss into supporting him.

But Parangosky had the majority vote, and that meant her reforms would pass. Hood was seriously starting to consider the need to organize a resistance against ONI with the way it was growing. He had underestimated Danford and Strauss's disillusionment with the UEG. Parangosky's reforms would pass, and the people would love her for bringing back democracy, the young officers who'd become adults under martial law would approve of doing away with the corruption of the UEG. And all of this would work so long as Parangosky kept everyone convinced it was the first step to a restoration of the UEG.

-

**2134 hours, September 22nd, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
Lord Hood's room, FLEETCOM HQ, Reach.  
**  
Hood quietly contemplated his options. If Hood had solid proof Parangosky was manipulating the proposed reforms in her favor, then he would have to remove her from power. He didn't doubt he could do so, and find supporters and allies. He would have to be extremely careful in trying to chip away at Parangosky's potential supporters. To his shame, he had not expected other UNSC Admirals and Generals to approve of thinly veiled autocracy, convinced until today that the sickness was purely a part of ONI. But it was deeper and more insidious than that.

Failure to do anything could mean a proverbial boot on humanity's face for decades. But doing something about it could potentially cause a civil war that might lead to humanity's extension.

Her plan was devious. She would push through well-liked and beloved reforms that solved many issues of the population and would have a positive effect on the war effort. But then as she solidified control over the new governments of the planets of the UEG, and expanded her influence inside of the UNSC, she could force through almost anything she wanted. And until she did that, she held the cards. He'd only get one chance to intervene, and he would have to be careful. She was the power behind the throne now, and the Security Council was stacked in her favor.

Then it hit him.

The new world the Turians had offered.

Hood would call in every favor and pull every string he could to stack the new world's population and rulership with those he trusted. A world and a power base that ONI couldn't infest. He'd find the network of supporters Roselyn would undoubtedly have had and bring them under his protection, move the families of flag officers he trusted to the new world, and prepare it as a power base where humans could be safe from ONI. He had friends to contact, favors to call in, and preparations to make. He could colonize the new world with the Infinity, and have a powerful flagship under his control. And if the UNSC lost the war, ONI would die with it, while humanity could live on in Citadel Space.

The only way he could break ONI would be by playing them at their own game. And play to win. He'd make deals with the STG and the Turian Hierarchy, befriend Asari Matriarchs with deep pockets and philanthropic aims, enlist the aid of the Shadow Broker to keep ONI off of the new world, and establish a power base from which he could theoretically wage a civil war. If it came down to it. If he could convince Cole to side with him, he would easily get the majority of the UNSC fleet to support him.

He resolved to watch the war against the Covenant like a hawk, and strike the moment ONI showed weakness, and the Coalition had a moment of superiority. Because everything would be for naught if the UNSC lost the war. But he could not afford to wait things out. He'd just have to pray Cole could lead the UNSC to victory, and prepare to play his own part in humanity's future.


	61. Chapter 61: Meeting on the Batarians

**1750 hours, September 22nd, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)**

**Private Council meeting chamber, Citadel Tower, Citadel Station.**

"I can't believe you're even considering this!" Tevos yelled at Valern, slamming a fist onto the table, shaking it. "It has taken decades of Sanctions and careful political maneuvering to reduce the Batarians to a paper varren, and now you want to undo all of that?" The Asari Councillor had been pushed to the limit by the war and all the secret diplomatic wrangling she'd been forced to engage in. "You won't see the results, but I will in my lifetime."

Valern stood up, indignant. "Do you see an alternative, Tevos? It will add thousands of ships to our forces, and free up just half as many Turian ships. I do not like the Batarians either, but they are being remarkably reasonable. They don't want leadership roles in the war, just a decrease in their sanctions. In exchange, they are offering a commitment of three thousand ships and three million soldiers. And if those ships are in the Orion Arm, we can decrease nearly all our fleet commitments besides the Covenant front and the Geth Containment Perimeter. We're talking another five thousand ships altogether." He glared at Tevos. "Those Sanctions haven't got anything done besides radicalize the Batarians while you refuse to let the STG take hard action against the Hegemony."

"A collapsed Hegemony would be a disaster of untold scale, killing Billions and drawing us into the largest quagmire the galactic community has ever seen," Tevos said. "I will not vote on reducing Batarian sanctions."

Sparatus tapped on the table. "I have received word from Primarch Fedorian he agrees on this course of action, and he has instructed me to agree on lifting the sanctions on the Batarian Hegemony, for the duration of this war, and the promise that sixty percent of Batarian military power is deployed into the Orion Arm. I do not agree, but I defer to the Primarch." He looked at Tevos. "Insult Valern again, and I'll file a motion of no-confidence. This is not like you, Tevos. You're letting this war drag you down. I suggest taking a break."

Tevos went silent, then averted her eyes and nodded, ashamed of her outburst. Unbeknownst to her fellow Councillors, she had been working behind the scenes to bribe, threaten, convince, and seduce the many Asari Republics into committing more resources to the war effort, while balancing the constant demands of the Shadow Broker, all the while trying to narrow in on his location. To no effect. Valern and Sparatus were performing purely as their office dictated, managing inter-governmental diplomacy and providing a unified diplomatic front in dealing with the humans. Most of their decisions were those made by their respective governments.

Valern froze, activating his omni-tool and reading a message on it. He went absolutely silent and spent the next three minutes reading the report, leaving Sparatus and Tevos in suspense. Valern then nodded. "We have a potential issue. The STG has just sent me reports that indicate a potential political dilemma unfolding in UNSC space, but nothing is confirmed. They felt it prudent that we be informed nonetheless."

"Tell us more," Sparatus instructed.

"Reports from STG agents inserted alongside UNSC personnel and on supply bases on human worlds have reported a series of murders and disappearances that have been suppressed on all human media. The victims were primarily former UEG senators and other politicians. The deaths were reported and confirmed far apart from each other, but our agents did some digging and found that several of the deaths had been reported as occurring before or after the time of death. Other deaths were student activists, scientists, and other officials with anti-authoritarian leanings."

Sparatus crossed his arms. "That does sound suspicious, but there is no hard proof. What else did the STG discover?"

Valern nodded. "This came around the same time as the announcement of a large scale democratization of human politics, as well as many pro-environmental and anti-corporate reforms being passed by their security council. These have been widely lauded and celebrated across human space, and in Council space as well, as an example of pro-sapient economic and political structures."

"I know of those." Tevos nodded. "They were quite impressive, and they sounded like a very normal response to the humans getting breathing room and a chance to restabilize their economy and political system. But I thought all they were doing was establishing provisional democratic planetary governments, and folding institutions into the UNSC navy. I still can't see the STG's suspicions."

"According to discrete interviews of human personnel and data analysis of planetary info-networks, we have come to the conclusion that the majority of these provisional governments have been filled with politicians that are inordinately well disposed towards the Office of Naval Intelligence, with a few of those interviewed mentioning that the individuals in question rose up the ranks very quickly, or even have missing histories entirely. STG has decided on a 61% likelihood that this is the result of a conspiracy stacking future democratic councils in its favor." Valern brought up a series of personality profiles. "These people are, to the average human, low ranking bureaucrats, clerks, or student activists who have "risen to the challenge," and their non-elected status has been accepted as a temporary measure."

"Also, the Human Admiral "Lord Hood" has taken charge of the initiative to move humans onto the world they've called "Eden Prime" and has moved many people there already. Including the families of several of those aforementioned political activists that died. This goes against his stated directive to be in command of the UEG inner colony defenses, and his marked caution about contact with the Citadel."

"If I were suspicious, I could see that as an admiral seeing where the wind is blowing and moving loyal assets to safety under the guise of a colonization program," Sparatus muttered. "Nothing is connecting these events, but it could very easily be part of something bigger."

Tevos narrowed his eyes at Vallern. "Why wouldn't this be reported in human media? It does sound like there could be something credible in the STG's maddening pursuit of any possible political conspiracy they don't have a hand in." She said, giving Valern a cheeky grin. "But I still don't see how this all ties together. And I hope there isn't."

"Because human media is under the complete and total control of the Office of Naval Intelligence, an organization that the majority of those humans interviewed have publicly decried for corruption and untrustworthiness. Attempts to transmit information about any of these subjects over the Comm Buoys in human space have been blocked by the ONI agencies in charge of these devices." Valern paused, looking mightily embarrassed. "This was noticed because the STG "accidentally" left weaknesses in several of the non-essential Comm Buoys provided to the UNSC, which automatically close upon the presence of AI-heuristics in a direct network connection."

There was an awkward silence.

"Damn it, Valern!" Tevos slammed a biotically powered fist into the much-abused table, denting it and making Sparatus leap up in surprise, arms flailing. "Did you know of the STG endangering our relationship with the humans?! This could have ruined all our diplomatic efforts if the humans discovered these before they'd fully committed to the Coalition!" Tevos felt an unquenchable urge to drink, and find solace with another Asari. "Even now, it could very much undermine our alliance, while we're on the brink of the largest naval battle since the Fall of Tuchanka!"

Valern raised his hands defensively. "I did not. And if I did, I would have opposed this. But that is irrelevant now. We have proof that ONI is censoring knowledge of these deaths, and by all appearances, they've succeeded in this quite effectively. ONI control over the human populace exceeds even Batarian Intelligence. The STG only managed to discover this due to looking into ONI blocking information about this on their Comm Buoys."

Tevos leaned back into her chair, bridging her hands and thinking deeply about what to do. "If this is true, then we're dealing with a possible rogue intelligence service trying to increase control over the human government. One that we've been feeding with Eezo, technology, and military support. We will have to be very careful about this. Valern, what do you think?" Tevos asked.

Valern's mouth raced so hard Tevos had trouble keeping up.

"Increase STG and SPECTER activities in the CEF to avoid ONI infiltration. Make sure to stop ONI from maintaining a solid presence in Citadel Space, work with the Broker if we have to. Try to find out more information on whatever ONI is getting up to. We'll improve diplomatic connections with the new human democracies and see about establishing consulates and other intelligence avenues in UNSC space. What we need most of all is intelligence." Tevos tried to think of what else she could do to assist anti-ONI efforts. "ONI has, by all records, been an extremely competent and efficient organization. I want to know why they are making these moves. We should see if the state of human of the UEG before the war was something that might require harsh political reforms to amend."

Sparatus, who'd by now gotten off the floor, dusted himself off and nodded. The fact he wasn't berating Tevos for denting the table being the closest thing Sparatus could give to approval of the display of anger. "We don't know enough to warrant direct action. So acquiring as much information on what might have led to these actions is going to be incredibly important. We need to maintain our alliance against the Covenant for as long as possible. And make sure that a potential rogue state does not form from this war." Sparatus sat back down.

"Let us bring these matters to a close," Valern said. "Any who are opposed to reducing Batarian sanctions on non-military trade in exchange for Batarian commitment to the war effort?"

"Opposed," Tevos stated, turning to look at Sparatus, who just shook his head.

"The sanctions will be lifted then. We will all contact our governments and have new trade treaties with the Batarians ratified." Valern said.

"Any who are opposed to increased anti-ONI activities by the STG and Specters, and further attempts to gather information on the United Earth Government?"

Neither Sparatus or Tevos said anything.

"That's those matters settled for now. Do either of you have anything to share for this meeting?"

Sparatus stood up, putting his hands on the table and taking a deep breath. "I have a grave matter to discuss. In regards to that name discovered inside the crashed ship on New Ghent. "Charum Hakkor." This information is only known at the highest levels of my government, and it is shared in trust with you to do with as you see fit."

"Using brute force quantum-computing, we processed the entire collective data storage archive of the Turian Hierarchy, and we were able to discover another mention of "Charum Hakkor" in the form of an ancient Turian myth." Sparatus put his hands behind his back and straightened up.

"What we uncovered was an early-industrial account from a Turian anthropologist that mapped out the history of the now-extinct steppe cultures of Palavan. She transcribed their oral histories into a travel journal. I have a copy with me."

Sparatus reached beneath the table where he'd placed a suitcase and took out an actual written book. Tevos hadn't seen one in what felt like years. Sparatus opened the novel and began reciting a passage. "I have come into contact with a reclusive tribe that lives on the borders of mountain and steppe, living inside the caves and only emerging to hunt or trade. After earning their trust with gifts, I was brought before their elder, who brought me to an ancient rock carving at the deepest part of the tunnels they made their home, one which they said showed the home of a former tribe that inhabited their land, and which they sought to preserve."

"This tribe speaks of an army of spirits of blue and orange light that came to their world and seeing the sorry state of their people, brought them to a new land of plenty in the bellies of giant flying birds.

In this world, they had been granted, life started anew, under the many eyes of the spirits. But an army of demons, composed of warriors and tricksters, came from a realm named "Karuum Hak'ur.", a world carved into the bones of dead gods. They drove the Turians from their homes with fire and thunder, taking their land for their own, and "rotting their wombs with death and decay."

When all seemed lost, the host of demons was met by the Lawgiver of the spirits of light, who waged war upon the demons and cast them into the abyss. The lady of light then came down to Palavan, and she wove life anew, taking the remains of those who had died, and creating from them the many races of Turian that inhabit the world. The cave folk who survived recorded songs and poems of what they had seen, and shared this with the tribe, passing them on before dying out.

This story is truly breathtaking, and the most original creation story I've recorded in my long travels. I thoroughly recommend the other members of the royal guild of science and learning visit these people as well. "

Sparatus closed the book and looked at the other Councillors. "An archeological survey team found the tunnels this account spoke off, discovering them to be extraordinarily rich in lead. At the bottom, they found the carving this account spoke of. There we found Turian DNA remnants of the inhabitants of this cave. All the DNA matched the local populace descended from the steppe people, except for the oldest bones. We discovered a DNA-sample from before the last mass-extinction of Turians and the subsequent genetic bottleneck. In fact, it was from before the Garlak-Dorian split. The others from the same era showed the subsequent genetic bottleneck."

"The identical minuscule gap in the fossil records of almost a thousand worlds," Valern muttered. "Bellies of giant birds, Rotting wombs, eyes of the gods watching from above." The Salarian shook his head. "This sounds like a mythologized version of real events."

"I pray it is not, because if it is, then a xenocidal horde slaughtered the ancient Turians to such an extent, we had to be saved through cloning by another species. Naturally, we've classified this knowledge to the highest extent."

"By the goddess." Tevos had a hard time finding the words for what Sparatus had just announced. It was almost too much for her. "The gaps in the fossil records weren't from a space-time fluctuation or other crazy theories, it was from something that wiped these worlds clean of life, before it was restored. A xenocide beyond imagining." She clenched her fists. "We need to find Charum Hakkor. I'll put my best people on scouring the galaxy for any other creation stories or legends from this era. We might learn more."

Valern nodded. "The implications are unnerving, to say the least. Who was this Lawgiver, and who were these demons? And why haven't we learned of either before now?"


	62. Chapter 62

**2305 hours, September 16th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
Ellana Valley, 17 km NW from Bhaakto City, Equatorial Plains Province, Alluvion**

"The Covenant are leaving," Samara said, looking up into the sky as she steered the Shadow APC towards the survivors she had spotted.

Master Chief Petty Officer John-117 nodded as he leaned out the side door of the Shadow and saw the fires of the burning city in the distance. Zooming in, he could see that the skyscrapers were collapsing one by one, consumed by internal explosions and fires. John stared at the sight.

He and Samara had only come across the survivors of the battle because the Covenant had been one step ahead of them and pulled their troops and dropships out of all the smaller bases he and Samara had been taking out, forcing them to travel further overland, while the more massive bases were too well fortified for him and his companion to take without any support. The Covenant dropships had all headed towards the city, so John had pursued, hoping to catch one on the ground. Instead, they'd found a ragtag handful of survivors, and got word that the battle was lost.

As they approached, John took a look. He was pleasantly surprised to see that Sergeant Avery Johnson was present, and it was good to see that four other marines had escaped with him, even if two of them were wounded. There was also a squad of turians, as well as an elcor. That was good, an elcor soldier was effectively a walking tank; unfortunately, it didn't look like the alien would fit in the troop bay. He considered his options and quickly came up with a plan to transport the elcor. He looked at the sky as the leaving Covenant dropships flew overhead, and told Samara, "Stop the Shadow, get these survivors onboard. After that, I'll need you to help me remove seats from the troop compartment, and part of the roof as well if need be. We need to fit that elcor inside."

The Shadow came to a halt, and John gave a quick but curt nod to Sergeant Johnson. "Good to see you, Sergeant. We can carry you, but we'll need to modify the cargo bay to fit that elcor." John looked at the mangled heap of metal Johnson had been dragging, only to realize it was actually a heavily augmented turian. Turning her head at an awkward angle to look at Chief, the turian waved Johnson off and slowly wobbled up to her feet, cybernetics sparking, internal fluids leaking. Another turian - an Armiger, John recalled - with a shotgun on her back was rapidly plugging leaks with her omni-tool.

"The Covenant are leaving," John told them, going straight to the point That means they're either about to be driven off-planet by reinforcements… or about to start glassing. We'll head for the wilderness to the north and try to get in communications range with our forces in orbit."

"Got it. Kelnara, Yeltis, Jenkins, Omar, start ripping out seats and panels to make room for the elcor. Everyone else, pack up and get ready to leave."

Chief walked up to Sergeant Johnson, immediately noticing that his old friend had taken serious damage to his hardsuit.. Johnson was wearing what his HUD identified as a Batarian import. Cheaper than the refitted Asari models, but better than BDU's.,. "You look like you've been through hell, Sergeant. How bad was it?"

"Bad enough, Chief. I lost count of the amount of transport ships the Covies downed." Johnson glared into the distance, his eyes methodically scanning the horizon. He gave John a forced smile, though still but with a hint of a genuine grin beneath it. , Opening a storage pouch, he pulled out a Sweet Williams Cigar, only to put it away instead with cold mechanical precision. This took John back to the training exercises with ODSTs headed by Johnson, where the Sergeant had led his men with brutal efficiency against his Spartans. "And on the ground they're learning, from what I've heard: antimatter charges beneath barracks and supply depots, hidden jammers all over the city, and their Spec Ops have stepped up their game."

John tilted his head at Johnson, then glanced over towards the pillar of smoke that used to be Alluvion's primary spaceport.. "We noticed. I saw Covenant using camouflage back in the forest."

"Only a cherry on the asswhoop-pie they served us. When I was fighting them… It didn't feel like the Covenant. Or it felt like a different Covenant. Hell, I don't know. I'm not just talking about new equipment, but the way they fought. There were no Jackals with shields, just Jackals with rifles moving like light infantry. They still used waves of Grunts, only this time they threw them at us to pick out heavy weapons and pillboxes and call down artillery strikes. Anti-air wraiths used in an anti-tank role." Johnson lit a cigar. "They beat us when they dropped a Scarab behind us and launched a combined arms assault across the river with a spearhead of Brutes."

There was a flash of blue as Samara used her biotics to lift seats out of the Shadow's troop compartment, while the unwounded turians and Marines were helping in clearing the vehicle's interior with their omni-tools, making space for the elcor. John noted, somewhat amusedly, that if they cut a hole in the roof, the elcor's weapons platform could serve as a turret.

Turning back to Johnson, John filed what the Sergeant told him deep within his mind. He'd have time later to process this information to find where everything had changed. The conclusion he reached was sobering and made him question his earlier optimism about Operation:CRUSADER.

After a few moments, Johnson pointed at one of the Marines. "It's not all bad, though. We held for several hours thanks to our new friends and new toys. We made them bleed for each street. But there were just too many."

Abruptly, the Sergeant motioned towards Samara, who was now levitating the elcor and trying to maneuver him into the Shadow. "I see you've got a beautiful lady riding with you, Chief. Congrats, I knew you had it in you." Johnson slapped John on the shoulder, mischief in his voice. "Name one of the kids after me, would you?"

John paused, looking at Johnson, then Samara, then back at Johnson again. He tilted his head, trying to imagine Samara as something other than a fellow soldier and failing. He had a basic understanding of the appeal of the opposite sex, but couldn't for the life of him ever associate it with the Justicar. T Besides, between combat deployments and cryosleep, most of his time was taken up by training, planning and maintenance, and he saw no reason to change that. So, he stayed silent, hoping that the Sergeant would change the subject. .  
"Not the relationship type, Chief?" Johnson asked, taking out a cigar again and this time actually lighting it..

"I don't see what you mean. Samara is a fellow soldier.. What other relationship could there be?."

"You need to loosen up, Chief. Why, after Harvest fell and I'd lost hope, I had this beautiful ONI agent with me in a space elevator who-"

"_Exasperation:_ I am not a piece of cargo!" The Elcor yelled as Samara and the UNSC marines tried to squeeze him into the Shadow. He barely fit into the compartment, even with the dividing walls torn out, and half the seats removed. Eventually, the troops managed to fit him inside by making him lie down, limbs spread out, and several of the Marines and Armigers sat on his arms to compensate for the removed seats. "_Angry and slowly dying inside from the pain of emotional humiliation and exhaustion:_ If anyone makes a joke… they die."

"Johnson, take my seat in the front," John said, "I have some questions for our guests." He wanted to talk to the Turians about what they had faced, not only out of professional interest and the need to learn about the new tactics the Covenant was employing, but also to get the turians' measure, as he'd likely be fighting alongside them soon. So, he climbed inside and found a corner to sit, as the Shadow's gravimetric engines roared to life.

The Marines marked on his HUD as Jenkins, Passalaqua, Omar and Vladimir, were quiet, weapons at the ready, and staring ahead. Their green hardsuits made them look like smaller, less heavily armored Spartans, and for a second John felt a curious desire to protect them.. Jenkins was lounging against the Elcor, hands folded on his chest and apparently catching some shuteye.

Passalaqua was bent over forward, rubbing the corners of her eyes constantly, her face downcast and bloody. John noticed she had a small set of prayer beads in her hands, muttering in Latin.

"So fucking many," the Marine ground out, noticing him. "I feel like shit. Those goddamn hinge-heads." Even as she spoke, she kept staring through John - an expression he'd seen many times during this war.

"Quit your bitching Pass', we all saw the same shit, you don't see me crying," Omar interjected, glaring at Passalaqua. "I am dealing with enough shit without having to deal with yours as well. We survived, that is the only thing that matters now." Omar leant into the back of his seat and closed his eyes, shaking. "It's over. That's all that matters."

Vladimir stayed silent and just stared ahead of him, only to start cackling, laughing until he broke into a coughing fit.

Feeling somewhat disconnected from the Marines, John decided to let them talk, and just sat impassively, not looking directly at any of them. Unlike the early war where the Covenant usually had overwhelming numerical and technological superiority, and most UNSC ground battles had been short, brief, and with few survivors. Alluvion had been hours of uninterrupted urban warfare against what John felt in his ceramic bones had to be a highly professional Covenant force., Only the meatgrinder on Harvest could really compare, and Harvest had swallowed whole UNSC armies with barely enough survivors to be worth a mention. .

John tried to think of a solution to recommend to ONI, but he only kept coming to the same conclusion.

It was only going to get worse. The UNSC now had more tanks, artillery, and infantry hardware. Soldiers survived wounds that would have killed them mere months before, and managed to survive brutal close quarters combat that used to leave nothing but broken mangled corpses.. And with the crates full of cybernetics the Citadel supplied the UNSC, even the wounded got no true respite from the war. A whole generation of humanity would be thrown into a meatgrinder far too few of them were ready for. John felt a tinge of shame, but said nothing. What could he offer them? He was a Spartan, not a psychologist.

A female Turian with a Shotgun had taken off her helmet and was aggressively fidgeting and looking back and forth, eyes wide with terror. Occasionally she calmed down before her paranoia returned. Another Turian holding what his HUD confirmed was a T-12 Amari was sitting next to the female, speaking to her in a soft voice. John mentally tuned the conversation out in light of the personal nature of it. He had seen PTSD too many times to count and had, at times, struggled with his own demons. He would leave the Turians alone to talk amongst themselves, and try to find the words for what they had seen.

Then the Turian looked up at him, looking directly at his faceplate, with tired war-weary eyes. "Human. Those… brutes. Do they always eat their victims? I have never seen something so foul before." She held her shotgun close. "I wasn't eager for this war, but I was ready to fight it. But I hadn't seen this kind of raw, merciless aggression before. We were winning, damn it! For months we kicked the Covenant around the arm, we crushed their scouting fleets, we routed their armies, and we were on a righteous march through the Inner Colonies, saving world after world!" She slammed a fist down on the floor of the Shadow. "And now the 13th Legion is almost wiped. You might not understand it, Human, but this is a grave blow against the pride and dignity of the Turian Military."

John nodded sagely. "I get the way you feel. Believe me, I did the same early in this war." He paused. "What's so special about the 13th Legion?"

The Turian with the sniper rifle, leaned forward, removing its helmet and revealing itself to be male. He put a hand on the female's shoulder, then took over the conversation. "The 13th Legion is an old Legion, human. It's descended from a company of Chariot riders from before we mastered Iron tools. It existed unbroken for thousands of years. If it has been destroyed, it is a grave blow to our honor. Recreating it will be difficult." He sighed.

Sergeant Johnson yelled from the front of the Shadow. "Seems weird to me the most honored Turian Legion would be number thirteen. Humans consider it an unlucky number."

The two turians glanced at each other, a cheeky grin on the female's face. "Most honored? The thirteenth wasn't that good. The Palavan First Regiment can trace its history to the royal guard of the first Turian city-state. There are no finer soldiers." There was a pause. "Do humans put stock in the history of their regiments?"

John shook his head. "Some formations have some measure of prestige attached to them. But nothing that impacts strategy and the like."

"Name's Kelnara. The grumpy old man is Yeltis." The female Turian said with a soft smile. "The silent twins are Gelvod and Gelnis. They don't talk much. The nugget with robot limbs is Sergeant Nialla." She motioned for the wounded cyborg that was strapped tightly into a chair, and who was performing maintenance on her cybernetics with an omni-tool. As John watched, Omni-gel spread across broken circuits and wiring and began to reform as hardened plating and electronics. She was testing her left hand, turning it a full hundred and eighty degrees.

"Your cybernetics are quite excessive, Sergeant," Chief noted. "Are many Turian soldiers as heavily augmented as you?" John had known many UNSC soldiers over the years who had cybernetics, but none who had been augmented as excessively and Nialla and still served on the frontlines. He wondered what kind of wounds could inflict such damage.

"Depends on how many survive the battles ahead. But there will be more as the wounded return to Palavan. There's only going to be more cyborgs."

Omar broke from his stupor and raised an eyebrow. He turned towards Nialla. "So. Who owns you now? So many cybernetics can't be cheap, let alone maintenance."

Nialla looked at Omar as if he'd suddenly grown a second head. "Me. The Hierarchy paid for my cybernetics and pays for the maintenance."

"I mean if you ever return to civilian life."

"That's what I meant. These are my property, but the Hierarchy pays for the upkeep."

"You're kidding me. The Hierarchy lets you keep combat-grade cybernetics, and pay for the upkeep? Shit, I'msigned up for the wrong army. I wouldn't mind insurance like that. My cousin had this amazing cybernetic arm which got replaced with a civilian model when he was discharged." He turned towards John. "That was a joke. Please don't shoot me for treason."

"I should." John said.

The Shadow went dead quiet, and all color drained from Omar's face.

"But I don't waste ammunition." John added.

Sergeant Johnson's guffaws could be heard from the front of the Shadow. "He got you, Omar. Admit it."

'"At least I already pissed my armor during the battle." Omar muttered with an awkward chuckle.

John perused the conversation. He didn't know that the Turian Hierarchy just gave cybernetics and maintenance to former soldiers, no strings attached. He could see why the Turians had such high morale. He felt a sling tinge of shame in how the UNSC could be penny-pinching at times in regards to Cybernetics. Soldiers who retired with cybernetics often didn't get all the support they deserved, or even got downgrades if they'd received military cybernetics. But perhaps that was where the Humans and Turians differed. The Turians were less free than the humans, but they got more things done. He supported the UEG's principles, but he thought of just what humanity could achieve if they were all focused towards a single goal.

"So there's only going to be more cyborgs as this war progresses?" John asked.

John had grown to appreciate the Turians for their near-limitless courage and determination when fighting, and would certainly welcome skilled tireless cyborgs. Their society also made him think, perhaps the UNSC would have fewer issues with rebellion if all citizens were raised from birth to uphold a military code of conduct? While the harsh physical upbringing the Spartans endured was not something he'd wish upon all human children, he could see the benefits of their education being applied on a larger scale.

Nialla nodded. "By the time I left, they were setting up large automated augmentation units for the many wounded soldiers returning from the front." She cocked her head at John. "How do humans deal with cyborgs?"

"Few soldiers survived Covenant weapons until Barriers and Hardsuits became commonplace," John said grimly. "It used to be if you got lucky enough to survive getting a limb blown off, you'd get a replacement and discharge papers or support duties."

John's COM chimed up. It was a priority message from orbit.

"This is General Pallonis. Covenant forces are departing Alluvion. All survivors are to converge on the town of Kellira for EVAC. We are evacuating the planet."

_"Angry indignation:_ My back itches."

-

**105 hours, September 17th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
Kellira, 50 km North of Bhaakto City, Equatorial Plains Province, Alluvion**

The air smelled of burned meat and death.

John-117 leaned out the side of the Shadow as they approached the town of Kellira. Or what was left of it. Kellira lay in ashes and ruins. Manyof its painstakingly constructed elaborate stone buildings lay in rubble, or had been reduced to molten slagged heaps.

"I thought the Covenant only attacked Alluvion city?" Vladimir asked as the Shadows passed a molten mass of vehicles and skeletons that had been fused together by high energy plasma. "Did an air-raid get past our defensive screens?" There were too many bodies to count, nearly to a fault, all too mangled to properly count.

Sergeant Johnson carefully navigated the large craters of molten glass that covered the road. "This happened before we showed up. During the first invasion. Poor bastards had just enough time to pack up and leave, only to be hit by Banshees."

"I'll climb outside so people know we're inside." Kelnara mutterd, still shaking. She climbed out the hatch and with a blast of her armor's thrusters, came to be seated atop the Shadow. Yeltis picked up the Shotgun the woman had left, and went after her without a second's pause. The rest of the crew clutched their guns tightly.

Nialla leaned out to observe the aftermath of the slaughter, one omni-tooled hand on her right shoulder. She muttered. "Do you ever get used to sights like this? I have seen so many massacres in the last three months, I can't be moved by them anymore." To the Master Chief.

"Most UNSC soldiers go through that," John said. "Eventually, you stop noticing, and it is no more out of the ordinary than any fallen soldier."

Omar muttered. "One day, we'll give the Covenant a taste of their own medicine. Make them suffer like we have."

John turned to give Omar a look that instantly silenced him. "I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy, and neither should you." John thought of the bodies he'd seen on Zhoist, of Covenant civilians scattered in the same way as the humans he saw now. How he had wondered if they'd known if why they were at war, why the Spartans had killed them in the streets. The thought they had been collateral damage still sat wrong with John."You should be fighting to end this war. Not make it worse."

"Your actions are those of a man who has mastered war, but your words are those of one who does not wish to wage it." Samara stated as she gently guided the Shadow through the narrow streets. The sight of the stolen transport got chuckles from the ragtag squads that were trying to prepare a perimeter. "Or am I wrong in that assumption?"

"I do what I was trained to do." John said. "But I don't enjoy cruelty. I only kill those when I need to."  
The Shadow approached the village square, which had been fortified and entrenched by the handfull of UNSC and Turian soldiers that had managed to escape in good order. John noted that their fields of fire were well establishes, and they had closed off many alleyways with controlled demolitions to funnel any Covenant into killzones. For what little it would do. As they passed the defemders, John could see line after line of wounded Turians and Humans. They were gathered on the sidewalks in small clusters around fires made from chemicals and flares. Their armor would protect them from the cold, but John suspected the shellshocked survivors just wanted to gather around a fire...

"There's not a lot of them." Sergeant Johnson muttered. "I figured there'd be more people making a break for it. These poor bastards must be all that managed to get away from the battle."

The Shadow came to a stop, the side doors opening up and the crew disembarking.

A squad of Turians in white armor emerged from the hastily established field hospital, carrying stretchers and helping to carry the wounded out. Nialla waved off a pair that tried to carry her off, instead ripping free a handrail from the Shadow and using it as a walking stick. "I can walk by myself. I need a crate of spare parts and some omni-gel to fix up my legs." John was impressed by the speed at which she'd gotten her cybernetics back in working order. When he and Samara had found the survivors, Nialla had been a "nugget" , but with just her Omni-Tool, she'd almost fully repaired herself.

"Marines, let's help the docs out. This field hospital can use a woman's touch, and you're the closest thing around." Sergeant Johnson said as he and his marines moved into the field hospital to assist the medics.

John saw a row of cots where almost two dozen soldiers were being treated for Carbine rounds. They held stomach and entrails that were turning green and rotting from the embedded rounds, or having their wounds thoroughly cleaned of infected tissue. Many of the soldiers wouldn't make it through the night. Medics were performing emergency amputations and organ removals, trying to remove as much tainted material as possible. There was a small pile of limbs and organs. Without dedicated medical facilities, the only treatment for the advanced cases would have to be euthanasia. The Sterile field generator hummed in the middle of the field hospital, while small flash-cloning tanks were creating replacement organs for the ever-growing pile of medical waste.

The sky suddenly turned black, revealing the arrival of the reinforcements. A flotilla of UNSC Frigates around a Phoenix-class colony ship, and three Asari cruisers were descending through the atmosphere, dropships launching from all hangar bays.

First came the smaller Asari Alutia-Class dropships, hovered into position using just powerful mass effect fields, and minimal engine thrusts. The side doors opened, and Asari Commandos leaped out of their dropships in a sprint, slowing down their descent and breaking into a run as they landed, moving out to establish a tripwire in the event of Covenant trying to approach the dropzone.

The Pelicans came next. Dropping off their attached Scorpion tanks in a full perimeter around the base, followed by heavily armed squads of UNSC Marines. The marines moved with a cold mechanical precision, without any sign of genuine initiative. Their hardsuits shone in the lights of the landing craft, and their weaponry was distinctly not standard UNSC-issue, but Turian lend-lease.

"Are those really Marines?" Sergeant Johnson asked with his cigar almost falling out of his slack-jawed mouth. "I've seen militias move with more initiative than that! Are we pushing recruits like that into battle?"

Nialla got up next to Johnson and followed his gaze, cautiously appraising the newly arrived marines. "Looks like a bunch of fresh recruits that just do what their VI's tell them is 'optimal'. Good for bolstering numbers and holding ground. Urban warfare is going to be hell for those unlucky bastards. But they're in for a rude wakeup call when the Covenant deploys their countermeasures again."

"Their hardsuits are too clean." John stated. "They should have dulled them by now. No armor should shine like that."

Sergeant Johnson shook his head. "I guess the brass thought numbers were more important than quality. I'll be sure to give them a piece of my mind." Sergeant Johnson got up and walked in the direction of the new arrivals.

Then came the D20 Heron's or "Pods," as the Marines called them. Large dropships that set down and flew back off, leaving large prefabricated firebases and bunkers in a circle around the village. Three field hospitals were dropped off next, spaced equally inside of the evacuation perimeter. It was gross overkill for how many survivors there were, but perhaps more would emerge from the wilderness soon.

John set out to leave the Village and find a remote location to call for an EVAC. Spartans weren't supposed to stick around in view for too long, and he had extended his stay. He'd call for Blue Team to extract him, and they could be on their way to the next battle.

A twig snapped behind him, and John whirled around, seeing the Asari standing there.

"I take it you'll be heading for a more stealthy extraction?" Samara asked, holding her helmet, and offering the Spartan a respectful smile and a stern nod. "It has been an honor working with you, Master Chief." Samara took her Carnifex and offered it to John. "Take this. A warrior like you needs a righteous weapon.."

John gently took the Carnifex and got a feel for the weapon. It felt lighter than his M6D Magnum but was comfortable in his grip. It was also bulkier than most Citadel Pistols he'd tried before disregarding them and sticking to his Magnum. The weapon was engraved lavishly and had texts that appeared to be Asari scripture. As he gripped it, his armor connected to the weapon's integrated VI, and showed him the ammunition types it could fire. To his surprise, it could fire over a dozen types of rounds, from armor piercing to warp rounds. He holstered the weapon. He'd make good use of it.

"Allow me to return the favor." John took his sheathed combat knife and offered it to Samara. His knife had gotten him through more than a few scrapes, and would do well in the hands of a skilled swordswoman. "As a token of friendship between the Spartans and the Justicars."

Samara took the knife and felt its weight, getting into a defensive posture, giving the weapon a few practice thrusts, then reversed the grip. "A fine weapon. I shall cherish it." She smiled, then walked off back into the village square.

_"Another day, another battle won." _John thought to himself, then disappeared into the night.


	63. Chapter 63

**1230 hours, September 29th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
Botanical Garden, Station Alpha, New Ghent.**

"Tell me, Aethyta. What can we expect from the Batarians?" Cole asked the Asari Matriarch as he looked out into the cold darkness of space. He saw a faint reflection of himself in the window, noting his growing stubble and sleep-deprived eyes. He decided to do something about those later. "From what ONI has been able to gather, they are reclusive, but also incredibly proud. Just what kind of soldiers are these Batarians? Can they provide any genuine support?"

Cole noted the first Batarian dreadnought moving towards Station Alpha. It would be the first of many ships to arrive and take up positions with the gathering armada. He counted Turian, Salarian, Elcor, Asari, Volus, and even a handful of Hanar ships, all in a defensive perimeter around the station.

Aethyta was dressed in beautiful robes that required small thumb-sized antigrav drones to keep it from scraping across the floor of the observation deck. She stood out from the soberly dressed humans in military uniforms and held a commanding presence that Cole found somewhat intriguing. Cole had to remind himself she was also the most powerful person on the entire station, capable of killing anyone aboard with contemptible ease.

The Matriarch crossed her arms and shrugged crudely, the gesture at odds with her refined clothes. "The Batarians are proud and stubborn. They consider themselves superior to everyone else, and will fight you to prove it." She paused. "They're also mean sons of bitches who will endure hell and love every moment. They love close quarters combat and the kind of weapons that scare the crap out of their enemies. They're excellent in the attack but mediocre in defense."

Cole mused it over, then gave Aethyta a curt nod. "I read the reports on Alluvion and how the Covenant won due to their superiority in CQC," Cole said. "Perhaps we should distribute the Batarians amongst the forces attacking Chi Rho as heavy shock regiments? Something to throw at enemy strongpoints and clear them with brutal precision."

Aethyta nodded. "That would be effective. The Batarians are despots who think they are a master race, but they're also incredibly brave. They'd climb over their own dead to fight the enemy in hand to hand if that's what their honor demanded. Having them on our site will be a real boon. And perhaps it might teach them some humility as well. At times, I've proposed that a gentle hand might guide the Batarians along a better path."

"I'll take you at your word." Cole nodded, then glanced around to see if he had been followed. He wasn't and started to move again, heading towards the section of the Station dedicated to the Asari.

Cole and Aetytha passed a pair of Asari guards that gave them a cursory scan with their omni-tools, before letting them through into the Asari habitation deck.

The Asari had taken their quarter of the station and truly made it their own. They'd set up several ornate statues, and began tending to extensive flower gardens. Cole guessed that the Asari station took an inordinate amount of the oxygen and water supplies of the station. There were clubs, theatres, and even some small stores run by camp followers. To Cole's career military mind, it looked incredibly unprofessional, but he couldn't deny the effectiveness of the Asari soldiery.

"I see that the Asari have really made this their home." He said, feeling somewhat awkward at how casual the Asari were when not on duty. It felt like a student party, but all the Students had mind powers, knives, and a readiness to kill. "I thought the rumors of narcotics and parties were just excited rumor-mongering from the crewmen. Evidently not."

"It's not as outrageous as it looks," Aethyta said, pointing at a large tree around which two dozen Asari were performing what looked like a mixture of dance and meditation. "The Asari revel in the freedom of expression and their bodies, Fleet Admiral. We know when to have fun, and when it is time to get the job done. Although your crewmen have been a bit too focused on our bodies, and not enough on our art and poetry. " Aethyta said with a hint of bitterness to her voice. "I'd be lying if I said the fetishization of my species doesn't get on my nerves at times."

"Sailors can get lonely." Cole chuckled. "But, I'm happy to see you've kept potential thrillseekers out of the Asari quarter."

As they passed the abundant biodiverse botanical garden in the center of the Asari section, they came upon the entrance to the section reserved for the Asari officers. Room after room of luxury and plenty that were the same for the leader of small Commando teams, to city guards that had been mustered for war. Cole let Aethyta take the lead and followed her down a short hallway that led to a large door, guarded by two Asari of the Serrice Guard with Shotguns in their hands. Cole had no doubt that if anyone looked remotely suspicious, they'd gun them down on the spot. It was a sobering reminder that while the Asari looked youthful and energetic, many of them had spent decades or centuries training in the art of war. ONI warnings stated that if an Asari couldn't defeat you by talking, they'd do so with force. The two guards opened the door, then stood back at attention, eyeing Cole warily.

Matriarch Aethyta's private accommodations were simple but beautifully designed. The simplistic human furniture had been ripped out and replaced with Asari ones. Lavish pillows, painted walls, a luxurious carpet on the floor, and beautiful drapes. While the simple bed had been replaced with a lavishly decorated one covered with pillows.

"Those guards were the meanest looking Asari I have ever seen. Serrice Guard, if I recall correctly?"

Aethyta nodded. "They are. I used to run with them when I was fresh out of the strip club." She took a deep breath and smiled. "Good times."

"A… strip club?" Cole asked, mouth agape. The woman in command of the Asari Expeditionary Force and ground commander for the Citadel Expeditionary Force was a stripper! His mind had trouble processing the information. It went against all hid personal codes of conduct for officers. Aethyta evidently saw this as her smile turned into a wicked grin.

"Yes, Fleet Admiral Cole. I used to be an exotic dancer. You'd be pressed to find a Matriarch in the Coalition hasn't done something embarrassing in their youth."

Cole tried to compose himself, but he couldn't. A stripper. Aethyta had been a stripper. "How the hell did you get this position?"

Aethyta's smile turned into a frown. "I spent some time aboard a warship and two centuries as a Commando. But Councillor Tevos got me for a different skill set." She sat down behind her desk, motioning for Cole to take the seat opposite hers.

He sat down, instantly noting that it was the best chair he had ever sat in.

"The Asari Military is tribal and divided. Divided between thousands of components, each with their own leaders and loyalty. My specialty is in keeping these parts working together, as well as being a mostly neutral middle ground between the many Asari factions. I keep the Asari bands and fleets together, and tell them what High Command has ordered."

"Then why aren't those part of High Command?" Cole asked. "Some of these Asari Matriarchs are outstanding tacticians who provide invaluable advice to UNSC Generals and Admirals during battles. But to be honest, some would be better suited to your position."

"Politics," Aethyta said. "I'm not part of any cliques or power blocs in Asari society. There can only be one leader of the Asari Expeditionary Force, which comes with a great many privileges. So I got the job. I keep everyone working together, and nobody will throw a fit over me leading. They all think I'm a warmonger with my head in the clouds." Aethyta laughed heartily. "Welcome to Asari politics. It's complicated and annoying."

"It's a hassle to deal with this," Cole said, taking a deep breath. "Having tens of thousands of Commandos, of whom only a handful have more men under their command than a captain, is a bitch to organize. " Cole noted his foul language and chastised himself internally. He prepared himself for the rant he was about to deliver.

"You have sergeant equivalents that command fifty commandos, and former generals running around with a private band of five commandos. And the former commands the latter because of some political deal that stretched back three hundred years. But then the Sergeant snuffs it, and the UNSC Marine Corps Captain in charge of the UNSC half of the combined operation assumes command over the unit. Only for the Matriarch to claim that her low rank was because of an oath to serve the sergeant-equivalent, and with that gone, now she is a Lieutenant and outranks the human. So when the individual objects, she throws him against a wall with her mind, then threatens to flay the Marines present with her biotics if they don't follow her in a direct assault on the Covenant, all the while screaming an incoherent battle cry."

"They assault the Covenant with overwhelming force and win the day. And then she is arrested by the military police for assaulting an officer. Only for the Asari's followers to break her free by using their biotics to lift the building she was locked in, and run off with it. It was a small miracle they didn't kill anyone in the breakout!"

Cole exhaled as he finished his rant. "Did I mention something like that has happened twice? That's not counting the times an Asari has used her womanly wiles to twist some thirsty marine officer around her fingers. And I won't even start about those vigilantes you call Justicars running around without any controls on them."

Aetytha looked at him with an expressionless look on her face, then nodded. "That's not the worst story I have heard. If I could do something to improve this, I would. But it will take time to move the Asari from peacetime glorified mercenary bands and parade guards to an actual large scale military. Throw in political cliques and centuries of intrigue, and you've got yourself a confusing mess." She paused, seemingly lost in thought. "For now. I'll agree on standing orders being that Asari forces will be attached to UNSC or Hierarchy units, and start enforcing discipline more harshly."

Aethyta opened the large drawer meant for datapad storage and retrieved a sizeable purple bottle, muttering in anger as she kept rummaging around. "Here. Have a drink. You've been working yourself to the bone, Fleet Admiral. You're a mess, and you look like you need it. Maybe a massage and a haircut as well." Aethyta said, retrieving two glasses and pouring a shot of the liquid in both, sliding the first one over to Cole, who took it and downed the shot.

Cole coughed in surprise as the liquid burned his throat on the way down, covering his hand with purple alcohol. He hadn't expected something purple to be so strong. Aethyta had already downed hers and looked with some concern at Cole, then at the bottle, gritting her teeth with an awkward look as she read the label.

"What kind of drink is this?" Cole asked pained, but suppressing a chuckle. It was funny to see Aethtya's composure cracked. "This burns worse than moonshine." He coughed again.

"Ninety proof, fruit juice, and nanotech to repair the damage on the way down," Aethyta said, a measure of guilt in her voice, teeth clenched as she looked at the empty glass in her hand. "My bad didn't know you were a lightweight. Shall I get you something lighter?"

"Give me another shot. My mother didn't raise a quitter." Cole said, still coughing up the purple liquid. He got a handkerchief from his pocket, putting it in front of his mouth each time he coughed. "There is nanotech in this swill?"

The Asari Matriarch smiled again. "Food additive nanotech is the new fad in Citadel Space. I have nanotech in my stomach that lets me eat like a krogan with the munchies, but keep my figure." Aethyta said, pouring Cole another shot, which he downed. Cole slammed the shot glass down triumphantly, noticing Aethyta beaming with pride.

"Why haven't the guards busted in yet?" Cole asked. "Do you usually have guests choking?"

The Asari Matriarch shook her head. "Soundproofed faraday cage. I don't like cameras watching me while I sleep, especially ONI."

Cole waited a few moments, trying to hear the telltale sound of soldiers rushing the door. By his calculations, any listening device outside would have overheard Cole's coughing and choking already, and a rapid response team would have kicked down the door already. "Well, you succeeded, because no guards are kicking the door down," Cole said. "Perfect. Matriarch, I need your assistance." Cole poured himself another shot and downed it, this time without the act.

Aeythta's formerly demure appearance suddenly switched over to an aggressive warlike posture. She poured herself a shot, downed it, then nodded at Cole. "What are you playing at, Cole? You ask for a private meeting, then fake choking to see if ONI is listening in on this room."

Cole leaned forward, bridging his hands. "I think I have a way we can bolster our fleet with two hundred ships, but the owners are hesitant to commit themselves. They want assurances for good treatment. Assurances that the UNSC can not provide them with."

"Rebels?" Aethyta said. "I've read about your insurrection. A nasty bit of business to be sure. You have a group that wants to join arms with humanity? At times, we have helped the Turians negotiate with Turian separatists, I can find some specialists to assist you in this."

Cole nodded. "I've known about an informant of theirs in my fleet for a while now. I think that with the war changing, now is the perfect time to talk peace with the more reasonable elements of the insurrection. But if there is to be any hope of success, we would need neutral arbitrators."

Aethyta slowly nodded. "You think the rebels would be willing to talk if they had a promise by the Asari to guarantee any decision? More than if they just had to trust the UNSC to uphold its side of the bargain."

Cole nodded. "Exactly. A foreign backing of any peace deal might be just what is needed to get both sides to stick to an arrangement."

"I won't inquire further. But if any talks happen, I'll work to make the Asari step in and see if we can arrange something."

-  
**  
1700 hours, September 29th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
Tactical Planning Center, Deck 10, UNSC Punic**

John had not seen this many Spartans together in one place in years.

Twenty-six Spartan-II commandos had been mustered from every corner of the UNSC, more than HIGHCOM had predicted could be gathered on such short notice. The Spartans, some of whom hadn't seen each other in over a decade, were gathered together around, squatting or sitting as they caught up. To an uninformed outsider, they were barely talking, but to John, they were an excited mob. Their body language was near-ecstatic for a Spartan, with small movements and hand gestures, each telling a whole story of their own. Spartans were making the Spartan smile on their faceplates, a swipe to the left with a single finger, or on those of each other. The closest thing to a kiss any Spartan ever went.

John counted every Spartan, noting the presence of the new Red Team, Green Team, Gold Team, Spartan Group Omega, Black Team, and even the ever-elusive Grey Team alongside his Blue Team - twenty-six Spartans in total, more than had been deployed on the same mission for decades.

"Officer on deck!" Fred yelled, and all the Spartans dropped what they were doing and moved into position, standing up straight and saluting.

Fleet Admiral Cole stepped into the small briefing room, followed by an ONI agent that hung carefully behind. The agent did not wear any rank insignia of any kind, although that didn't mean much. A pair of ODST's stood watch at the doorway.

"Welcome, Spartans. I am sorry for calling you on such short notice and depriving you of the usual cryo-sleep recovery periods. But we are running the clock here." Cole motioned towards the ONI agent, who took a data crystal from his pocket and inserted it into the holo-tank at the center of the room. He then stepped back, crossed his arms, and continued to observe.

"Spartans. Welcome to Operation: JUDGEMENT." Cole said, igniting his omni-tool and pressing a button. The holotank in the middle of the room lit up, showing an image of a glassed planet. John's mood instantly soured when he saw the small purple cityscapes from orbit. Were the Covenant colonizing the world? The idea nagged at him.

Cole continued. "This is the former colony of Chi Rho in the Ectanus 45 system. It is where you will be deployed next." Admiral Cole motioned towards a holographic display of the planet in question. "I have with me, Commander Jondum Bau of the STG, and commander of Coalition intelligence assets. He will be briefing you on your next mission after I have explained the situation. The ONI agent is Lieutenant Haverson. It is his division that has uncovered what we are about to see."

"Spartans," Cole said, turning to face all the Spartans, looking them over one by one. "For the last four months, you have proven a vital part of our continued efforts against the Covenant. Over thirty colonies have been saved or retaken thanks to your tireless efforts. But what I am asking of you now goes beyond any of that."

"On Chi-Rho, the Covenant has constructed seven large city-sized naval yards, equipped with formidable anti-orbital weaponry and theater-scale shields. In conjunction with significant Covenant naval presence, that means that timely and sustainable fire support is unlikely. We believe that at full capacity, these yards can produce fifty CCS-class battlecruisers combined each month and service a total of up to a thousand Covenant ships. If they are not stopped, and their fleet support base comes online, then our destruction is all but guaranteed. In light of this, the UNSC and our allies have assembled the largest fleets in both our collective histories, as well as up to thirty million soldiers for deployment on the planet itself."

Cole looked around, his expression turning slightly to surprise and concern as no Spartan reacted to the revelations. He continued. "Operation: JUDGEMENT is the name for the joint offensive against the Covenant forces in the system, designated as ARMAGEDDON. You will be given a crucial role during this battle."

Cole pressed a button on his omni-tool, and seven points of light appeared on the holographic representation of the planet. "While the Coalition navy engages the Covenant in orbit, the six smaller cities will each be attacked by a force of roughly three million soldiers. These soldiers will be launching assaults upon the outskirts of the city and contesting the defenders. Using this distraction, Citadel special forces will insert into each city in numerous locations, and dedicate themselves to seizing priority targets and disabling the Covenant's capability to launch effective counter-attacks. "

"ONI and NAVSPECWAR have agreed to this unprecedented spartan deployment for the most important part of the surface battle. While the cities are under siege, and Citadel special forces are debilitating the Covenant's response, you will be inserted into these cities to disable their central reactor cores, which will disable their defensive shielding and anti-orbital weaponry.."

A large Spartan in the rear stood at attention and raised a hand at that. "Permission to speak, sir?" It was Jorge-052, the largest Spartan by far, and possibly the strongest as well.

"Permission granted, Spartan" Cole said.

"Sir, you said we are disabling the reactors. Why are we capturing these bases if they are so dangerous?" John asked, even if the answer was starting to already form in his mind. But he still needed confirmation.

Cole nodded. "These shipyards are constructed like Covenant super capital ships. Their superstructures can withstand direct nuclear strikes, and each complex has its own energy shield. The Covenant is also using an unknown gravitic manipulation technology to keep everything from collapsing into the ground. Deploying tactical nukes might only destroy a small segment of the Facility. In all likelihood, you would only destroy the building the nuke was deployed inside. Therefore, we will cut the heart out of these bases and disable them for good. Does that satisfy your query?"

"Sir, yes, sir!" The Spartan nodded, lowering his arm.

Cole pointed at a spot on the hologram and zoomed in on it. The largest Covenant city came into view. It was twice as big as any of the other ones. "The seventh target is different from the others. ONI and the STG have confirmed our fears that the Covenant has tapped into an active shield volcano to provide the raw materials they need for construction, as well as monumental amounts of geothermal power. Due to the risks involved, this target is to be neutralized by disabling the containment mechanism the Covenant use to stop the volcano from erupting, followed by an immediate exfiltration before the volcano erupts. According to simulations, even a non-catastrophic eruption will put it out of commission."

"The distribution will be as follows: Spartan teams Red, Gold, Grey, Black, and Team Omega will each be deployed to one of the cities, while Blue Team will be tasked with ensuring the destruction of the supervolcano yard. Omega is to be split into its component parts, with Omega and Alpha each hitting a different assembly yard. Green Team will be stationed aboard the supercarrier Trafalgar as a mobile reserve that will hit the first Assembly yard to be disabled. They will then be sent along with the team that disabled, said yard, to aid the nearest. This will repeat until every city is neutralized."

There was the faintest of a grumble from Spartan Group Omega over the COM, outside of the Admiral's hearing. The largest force of Spartans in the UNSC, Spartan Group Omega, and its two constituent teams each excelled on their own but were almost legendary when working together to hold the line. Omega was specialized in assaults and CQC, while Alpha excelled in fast movement and precision strikes. Like all Spartans, they were proficient in all fields, but each Team still had something they were more skilled at.

Like always, Blue Team got the most dangerous assignment, and John wouldn't have it any other way.

"You will be deployed using new experimental stealth drop pods. These pods are equipped with a new experimental cloaking system. According to Eezonic Materials Group, the designs are constructed from components taken from Covenant cloaking systems, combined with Salarian cloaking technology. Not to mention kinetic barriers and mass effect fields for better speed and softer landings. Speaking of which, please allow me to introduce you to Commander Jondum Bau of the STG. He will be overseeing Coalition Special forces deployments on Chi Rho."

Cole waved for the ODST's at the door, who stepped aside to open it and let a Salarian inside. The Salarian walked up to where Cole stood, nodding respectfully at the Spartans. "Greetings, Spartans. Like your Admiral said, I am Jondum Bau, representative of the Salarian Union in the CEF, and Commander of the STG. It is a pleasure to be working with you." The Salarian was without a helmet, and his all too human smile unnerved John.

Kelly tilted her head at the Salarian, then looked at John, making a subtle shrug with her right shoulder, then flexing her right arm. Spartan code for: "Real? Need clarification"

John subtly tilted his head in the other direction, put some more pressure on his right foot, then clenched his fist once. "Unknown. Irrelevant.."

One spartan held up a hand. It was Joshua-028, the moral heart of the Spartans. The one who always went out of his way to run to the rescue of civilians. John hadn't seen him since Harvest.

Cole nodded. "Permission to speak, soldier."

"Why is a Commander in charge of a mission this important?"

There were finely calculated shoulder shrugs and twitches that affirmed assent.

Jondum Bau, to his credit, merely smiled. "I am a Commander of the Special Tasks Group. Our numbers are small, and therefore our hierarchy is not as extensive as the human or turian one. My rank as a Commander in the STG would be equivalent to a General or Admiral in your nomenclature. And as such, I have been assigned to represent my people as representative of the Salarian Union for the Coalition High Command, and the one in charge of the intelligence assets of the Citadel Expeditionary Force."

"You will afford Commander Bau with the same respect that you'd show me." Admiral Cole informed the Spartans.

Joshua-028 nodded, snapping off a short(for a spartan) salute. "Understood, Sir. My apologies."

"No offense taken. Now onto the objective." The image changed to a satellite picture of one of the Covenant Assembly Yards, then the image split, with a heat map appearing next to the orbital view. Each of the yards had a significant heat source at the core, spreading out in all directions via a series of tubes.

"Unlike the shield volcano, the smaller Assembly Yards use artificially induced volcanism, pumping up magma through this large central chamber, and then separating it along these lines for processing. We believe we are dealing with some form of nanoscale engineering to convert this magma into feedstock for the Assembly Forges, marker here, and here." Jondum pressed a button on his omni-tool, and several green areas lit up on display. "We believe that the best way to disable these factories with the least amount of damage to their delicate components, as well as the most efficient, will be to disable the primary fusion reactor, here." A large Cylindrical building was highlighted in red.

Jondum continued when no Spartans asked any questions. "The battlecruiser recovered upon New Ghent is teaching us many things, things we had never even dreamed of before we realized the Covenant had made them work. But progress is painfully slow. The Covenant black-boxes their technology, to a fault. According to intelligence provided by a "Doctor Halsey," our only example of Covenant shielding technology that can be analyzed is in the form of what appears to be an antique energy shield, recovered in 2526. Analysis has determined that Covenant technology is not by itself unintelligible to our science, but is purposefully obfuscated through the implementation of self-destruct mechanisms. The Assembly yards will be mid-construction when we arrive, and therefore be filled with technology not yet rigged for self-destruction. A chance like this might never come again."

The hologram changed to a long cylindrical device, as big as two HAVOK tactical nukes stacked on top of each other. It had three large magnetic claws at the bottom and a control panel on the side of it. The design was something John had not seen before, and he assumed it was alien.

"UNSC tactical nukes are a formidable weapon, but they are not what we need now. We need something supremely destructive, but with a smaller radius. You will be equipped with Asari warp bombs. With these, you'll puncture the reinforced housings of Covenant fusion reactors. This will disable the reactor, but not trigger a full detonation. This will leave the Covenant only scuttling as an option to disable the Assembly Yards."

"The STG and SPECTERS will be running interference and providing whatever support we are capable of by launching simultaneous strikes to your stealth infiltration. This will hopefully draw attention away from you and make your mission easier. These forces will be performing their own objectives but will be ready to assist you at a moment's notice. As your objectives exceed theirs in importance."

The Salarian activated his omni-tool and slowly waved it in front of him. "I am sending a guide to each of your omni-tools on which Special Forces will be deployed, their capabilities, and strengths and weaknesses. You will be supported by Salarian STG, Turian armigers, and Blackwatch, as well as Asari commandos and Justicars. These forces will be transported aboard the UNSC ships that will deploy you, and be running training exercises with you during transit."

John noted that his omni-tool had received the message. He would read it after the briefing.

The Salarian smiled, then saluted the Spartans. "I wish you the best of luck. Alas, I am not cleared for the next part of this meeting." The Salarian stood up and walked out of the room. The ODST's closed the door behind him.

Admiral Cole looked pleased, then nodded. "What I will reveal next is classified top secret, even from you. This information is only available to the Security Council, and the highest echelons of UNSC Command. But as we will not be able to hide it from you, it will be revealed publicly." Cole looked at the door opposite of the one that Jondum Bau had entered. "Colonel Ackerson. You can send them in." Cole said to the ONI agent.

"Spartans. My name is Colonel Ackerson. I am here to tell you about a game-changer for the Spartan program. In light of the war turning into an offensive one for humanity, and near-equal naval parity having been achieved against the enemy, CINCONI and the UNSC Security Council have agreed to change the nature of the Spartan Program."

John cocked his head at that. Was the UNSC finally going to start creating more Spartans? He certainly hoped so.

The second door into the chamber slid open, and seven Spartans walked in. They were wearing Mark Four Mjolnir armor. They did not have any numbering on their chest pieces, nor did they look like the Spartans that weren't earmarked for Chi Rho. John instantly stood on edge, eyeing the new arrivals skeptically. The Spartans around him did the same, breaking protocol to turn their heads to look at the new arrivals. None of them spoke up, discipline holding, but their body language spoke volumes about how confused they were in the form of minute twitches and head tilts.

Ackerson coughed, then spoke up. "Spartan Twos. I would like you to meet the Spartan Three program. Your successors, and from today onwards, comrades in arms."

John could scarcely believe it! He had always thought that eventually, the UNSC would create more Spartans, but over the years, as no new recruits materialized, his hopes had started to wane. But now he was looking at the next generation of Spartans. He felt a feeling of pride in his chest at seeing more soldiers bearing the Spartan name.

"The Spartan Three program had been concealed from you until now due to the heavy secrecy around their creation. But with the war turning around, the UNSC needs every spartan in the fight. And they need them to be led by the very best that is available," Ackerson smiled, beaming with pride. "Therefore, by command of the UNSC Security Council and ONI, the Spartan Two and Three programs will be merged into the new Spartan Branch. You will be provided with new specialized facilities, training locations, and a steady stream of new recruits."

Kelly turned her head towards John and swiped her left finger across his faceplate. She was excited, and so was he. The other Spartans in the room flashed their HUD lights green to show approval or made subtle gestures with their hands that showed their support of what was happening.

"These Spartans are the best that the first Company of Spartan Threes had to offer, and they will become a part of your deployment to Chi Rho. Afterward, you will be taken towards your new training location, where you will personally begin instructing the four-hundred and twenty-seven new recruits that await your arrival. These, you will forge into the greatest fighting force in human history, and then prepare to lead them into Covenant space when the counteroffensive begins."

Ackerson walked in front of the new arrivals, introducing them one by one. "I would like to introduce you to Noble Team: Emile-A239, Carter-A259, Jun-A266, Thom-A293, Kevin-A282, and Rosenda-A344." The new arrivals took off their helmets, and John noted they all looked young for Spartans. They had to have been trained relatively recently. He already thought of his options with six more Spartans, and hundreds more being trained. But they were, without a doubt, Spartans.

Then it struck him. He wasn't sure if he would be given command. John raised a hand to inquire further. "Permission to speak, Sir?"

Ackerson turned to look at, nodding curtly.

"Who will be in operational command of the Spartan Branch?" John quietly hoped he would lead.

"I have been given organizational control over the Spartan Branch, but all field operations and personnel assignments shall be handled by the current leader of the Spartan Threes. "Ackerson looked at the final unnamed Spartan, who stepped forward. "Lieutenant, please step forward."

The new Spartan reached for his helmet and, with a hiss of air, removed the helmet. What came next was a face that John hadn't seen in over a decade. A Spartan that had gone missing a decade ago, and had been mourned by all members. A long lost brother had returned, and John's heart almost soared with joy, even if he didn't show it outwardly.

"At ease, John. " Said Kurt-051, his IFF beacon lighting up and marking his rank out to be a Lieutenant. "It's good to see you all again."


	64. Chapter 64

"Spartan Group Omega. Suppressive fire on the enemy force advancing up the main road." John commanded calmly over the COM. Six green acknowledgment lights lit up on his hub. Assault and Battle rifle fire caught the advancing enemy by surprise, four of their number dropping when their protection failed, and they were found in the open. The attackers took cover behind the wreck of a warthog, rounds whizzing overhead.

John knelt next to the window, looking at Carter, who sat across from him, holding a shotgun. Carter stood up, blasting back an attacker that emerged from a cloaking field, his grenade going wide and missing the window. He pumped the shotgun twice, hitting two more attackers, then getting down into cover. He nodded at John and made a quick hand signal. _"Position secure._"

"Enemy forces bringing up support equipment," Linda said over the COM, the sound of her rifle in the background. There was a pause. "Joshua is down! I am relocating along with Green Team."

John activated the augmented reality of the BATTLENET, looking at what his fellow Spartans had been able to detect. The enemy had surrounded the compound and were pounding it with rockets and heavy machine gunfire. They were setting up HMG's to fire against each window and opening, using the near-infinite ammo of their weapons to lay down unending suppressive fire. The enemy had right positions, using the surrounding urban terrain to set up ambushes and advance unopposed until they reached the thirty-meter gap between the Spartans base and the

Kelly ran in from across the room, holding two SPNKR rocket launchers and five rockets under her arms. She slid into cover near Margaret-053, the leader of Black Team. "These are the last rockets. Take your team and take out their armor." Kelly said as an anti-material round passed through a crack in the wall, splashing across the opposite wall.

Margaret grabbed the rockets, then called out over the COM. "Black-Two, Black-Three, take these rockets and flank them. Black-Four will provide overwatch from the first floor."

With a mental command, John brought up a map of the factory he and his squad were holding. Blue had been split up, and each member had been tasked with controlling a Spartan team. John saw Linda was holding the second floor with Green Team, although two markers were classed as wounded, while one had gone black. Joshua. Kelly and Black Team were a mobile reserve and were preparing to attack the enemy armor. Fred had taken the Spartan Threes and Red team and were flanking the enemy advance to engage them in CQC.

The enemy advance was relentless, but they were slowed nevertheless. The Spartans could still pull through.

Kelly and Margaret got up, running to the right, when a barrage of heavy rounds hit Kelly in the side of the head, causing her to spin and fall in a static heap. Margaret snatched her rocket launcher and ran on, intent on completing the mission.

John got to his feet and charged towards Kelly, grabbing her arms and dragging her towards the kitchen where there was more cover. The wall facing the enemy was quickly breaking away under sustained heavy impacts, and protection was quickly running out. Bolts of blue energy shot through the air, impacting near John as he dragged his fellow Spartan into cover. His barriers took several impacts, but he managed to get Kelly to safety.

A vicious war cry echoed over the battlefield, followed by the thunder of footsteps. A hole was blasted into the gate of the former factory. Grenades sailed through the gaps, but the Spartans were too quick, and the defenders had already taken cover.

Jorge stepped forward, chaingun in hand. He laid down suppressive fire as the enemy advanced behind shields of orange energy, firing submachine guns with their free hands. His massive firepower broke the shielding, and the attackers collapsed as the integrity of their wall broke. The Spartans counterattacked, driving the enemy back with shotguns and close-quarters combat, throwing their enemies around, or blasting them from point-blank range.

The door that Gold Team was supposed to be guarding was suddenly kicked open, revealing a Batarian holding a massive flamethrower in both arms. A blast of red spread across Jorge's Mjolnir armor, the spartan fell, his heavy machine gun firing wildly as his fingers tightened around the trigger finger.

"Hah. You're all dead," The Batarian said, spraying the interior of the room with a thick layer of red paint, then holding up his weapon triumphantly.

"So are you," John said, appearing from behind the doorway he'd been hiding behind and shooting the intruder in the back.

"Hrrraggrrrhg." The Batarian groaned as the stun rounds caused his armor to flail around, then lock up.

John turned to look at the prop that the Spartans had been defending. It had been painted red. A game over.

"Objective destroyed. Wargame over." A voice over a loudspeaker said as the lights around the training course came to live, illuminating the formerly dark training ground. Soldiers that had moments before been playing dead climbing to their feet as the armor lockdowns lifted. The dozens of Batarian soldiers lying on the 'factory' floor rose up, rubbing the thick red dust and paint off of their armor. Jorge got up, red from head to toe. The Spartan had taken it upon himself to play up the effects of being hit, but it had been effective. If the flamethrower had contained its standard chemical loadout, the Spartan would have been boiled inside his suit.

"Objective Wargames.

Citadel: Three. Spartans: Seven." The mechanical announcer said.

John noted the time. The Spartans had been thirty seconds from winning the game. He offered the Batarian a hand and pulled him to his feet. "Report. How did you get past Gold team?" John asked the Batarian as he looked at the doorway through which he had entered. He saw the members of Gold Team getting up and starting the cleanup of the room, removing shell casings and the larger bits of debris. He saw a faint flicker in the air. As if on cue, a squad of Salarians with heavy Venom shotguns appeared, omni-tools active.

"That was us." Kirta, their squad leader, said, removing his helmet. "We jammed their signals. Still took us three squads to distract them. Balak ran past while your Spartans were kicking us around in hand to hand."

John made a mental note of that. The Salarians had to have overwhelmed Gold between the periodic checkups the fire-team leaders under his command gave him. He wondered how long the Salarians had taken to notice that.

The Batarian had removed his helmet, clipping it to his belt. "I admit. You move far too fast for someone in such bulky armor." He glanced over John's Mjolnir.

Kelly stood up, rubbing her throat where the round had impacted, a sticky blue dust covering her fingers. "Lucky shot."

The Batarian grunted. "You say that every time someone shoots you."

"You're all very lucky." Kelly insisted.

Cleaning robots had emerged from outside the converted hanger, moving to begin dismantling the prefabricated structures until the next training scenario would be devised. For the last three days, the Spartans had been competing in constant wargames.

John examined the interior of the factory, noting that there were more holes in the walls than last time. The attackers had learned and were removing the Spartan's cover from a distance before advancing. John activated the augmented reality mode of his HUD, showing him exactly where each Spartan had been hit, how they had fallen, and who they had taken out themselves. This had been the worst round so far, with their opponents using their previous defeats to hone their tactics. The Spartans had so far won nearly each deathmatch, but had been taking losses in objective based wargames, where the Citadel could deploy their variety of Special forces, and superior numbers to win.

For the last three days, the Spartans had been performing numerous combat exercises and scenarios with their new allies. The enemy had managed to score seven Spartan kills this round, suffering fifty losses of their own. Citadel special forces were good, but they weren't Spartans.

Nialla hovered up towards the window still, sitting down and looking at the interior of the building. "Excellent performance, Spartans." The woman said, saluting the chief. "You're damn good shots. We can't use our jetpacks to fly without your snipers hitting us out of the air in seconds. My pride still hurts from when Blue Team's sniper shot us all down." She then noted the red dust covering every surface of the room. "We should be happy the Covenant don't have chlorine trifluoride flamethrowers, because this is the secomd time you've lost because of it."

John nodded. "Crude, cruel, and effective. What I've learned to expect from the Batarians. What was the friendly fire rate?"

"Half of the flamethrower teams," Nialla said. "I think we lost more Batarians to misfires than to you."

John had at first objected to the Batarian flamethrowers in the wargame, noting that it would not meaningfully damage Mjolnir armor, until he had been informed of the payload. Instead, each time the trigger was pulled, there was a realistic chance the operator of the weapons and the surrounding twenty meters would have their armor lock down.

Balak crossed his arms, a grin on his face. It almost made John forget that he was a ruthless commander of a slave-owning autocracy. Almost. "Chlorine Trifluoride is dangerous. That's why we use it. We're the only ones brave enough to do so."

"Or crazy," Nialla muttered.

Balak rolled his four eyes and walked out of the factory, yelling at his men for their lackluster performance in the training simulation.

Emile looked up from the shotgun that he was delicately cleaning. He walked up towards Nialla, looking her over. "That's because we have to guard this piece of junk, you alien bitch." The Spartan Three said, kicking the metal prop that represented an 'ONI Intelligence Asset.' "We would have kicked your asses in a straight up brawl, like we did last game."

"Private First Class, Emile-A239." John said, anger in his voice. "That is conduct unbecoming of a Spartan. You are on cleanup detail for a month." John was optimistic about the Spartan Threes, and approved of most of them, but was quickly losing his patience with Emile and his blatant disregard of protocol and the usage of uncouth language. The other Spartans in the building turned to look at the uncommon sight of a Spartan being reprimanded.

John realized he had just given the first reprimand to another Spartan that he could recall, and wasn't sure how to feel about it. But he knew the punishments that were appropriate, and would hand them out as needed.

"Whatever you say, boss man." The Spartan said, leaving the building, leaving John speechless at the display of a fellow Spartan being insubordinate to him.

The Turian looked at John, then quickly let herself fall backward and flew back to her soldiers with a puff of her jump-pack, evidently eager to avoid the awkward moment. Kelly nodded in approval at John, then left the room to go about her duties.

John motioned for Carter, the unofficial leader of the new Spartans. Carter's armor was untouched by either gel, paint, or dust. "Carter, has Emile always displayed these insubordinate tendencies?"

"No, sir. " Carter said, with a bit too much reverence for John's liking. "Spartan Emile was always aggressive back in Alpha Company, but I've not seen him confront an officer like that. He must have issues interacting with aliens."

"Dismissed," John said.

He was in a foul mood from Emile's outburst. Spartans were not insubordinates and certainly didn't cuss them out. It was time he had a talk with Kurt about the Spartan Threes, and the signs of PTSD and other psychological defects he'd noticed during their training exercises.

He passed Fred sitting across from a Turian and a Batarian as they examined each other's omni-tools. John's HUD indicated that Fred was downloading a package of custom Omni-blade and Omni-fist addons, several in fact. At least one member of Blue Team was having a good day.


	65. Chapter 65

**1800 hours, October 3th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
Fleet Admiral Cole's office, Deck 1, Station Alpha, New Ghent.**

Fleet Admiral Cole glanced at Ackerson as the ONI spook entered his office. Cole put down the datapad he'd been examining, and looked at Ackerson. "Colonel, would you mind telling me how the hell you got Halsey to give you her Spartans? I couldn't believe it when I learned about it." He stated incredulously, still trying to think of possible reasoning, even as he asked Ackerson.

Ackerson looked at Cole, then gave him a curt nod and a small smile. "Halsey isn't in UNSC space anymore. She's hosting seminars on AI technology on Sur'Kesh with the Salarians or working on reverse engineering Covenant technology. Parangosky put this proposal forward to the Security Council, and it passed with a majority vote. There are even talks of going public and using the Spartans as propaganda symbols to rally around."

Five members were on the council, that meant one or two had to have voted no. Cole surmised that one had to be Hood, but he couldn't think of the other. He put that knowledge away for now. He suspected ONI to have cut Halsey's connections to her allies in ONI while she was in Citadel Space, so she couldn't attempt to block the seizure of her Spartan program.

Ackerson glanced around, then took a datapad from his suit's pocket and activated it. He turned to look at Cole, murder in his eyes.

"I want to talk to you about what you told Matriarch Aethyta."

Cole tensed up, moments from pulling out his sidearm and unloading it. "Go on," Cole commanded, trying to decide how ONI had overheard. Had they bugged him? He hadn't broken any rules, technically, but could still be in significant trouble. Cole contemplated fighting his way out if Ackerson tried to arrest him.

Ackerson nodded. "ONI has surmised you were talking about your wife. At first, we were unsure of what to do, but then we found a satisfying compromise. One that we want you to tell your wife about."

"In line with the new reforms being passed throughout the UEG, Parangosky is planning to offer blanket amnesty to all insurrectionist elements, including your wife. We need soldiers and sailors, and we're not picky about how we get them."

Cole was flabbergasted. He tried to rationalize what he'd just heard. "Amnesty?" He asked. "Just like that? No trials for the terrorists, no court-martials for the deserters?"

Ackerson nodded, then spoke at length, sounding genuine. "Blanket amnesty. No questions asked. A new era of peace and unity is coming for humanity, Cole. The political cliques of old are powerless, the megacorporations have been broken up and put under military oversight, and new stable democracies are forming throughout our space. It is time we abandoned our old hatreds, made peace with each other, and prepared for the future together."

Cole was speechless. He privately wondered if Parangosky had turned over a new leaf in her old age. He was skeptical, but not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He nodded slowly. "I can contact Lyrene and try to convince her. But I can not promise anything. Her people will want something official, a news broadcast or the like."

"Already happening," Ackerson stated. "As I speak, Parangosky is on live television announcing the amnesty on behalf of the Security Council."

Cole was silent, then stood facing the holographic image of Chi Rho. He went through the bombshell Ackerson had dropped. Something was happening with humanity, and he would be careful in his next course of action. He turned back towards Ackerson and nodded. "I see where you're going with this. You can tell Parangosky that as long as she keeps pushing down on the corporate and political sectors, and bringing these kinds of reforms, I'm on her side." Cole lied. He had no intention of supporting Parangosky.

And he was sure that Ackerson knew so as well.

"Excellent. I'll be on my way, Fleet Admiral."

Cole wasn't oblivious to what Parangosky was doing. She was building a power base, increasing ONI's grip on humanity by improving humanity. But Cole couldn't determine if it was out of despotism, or enlightened absolutism. He doubted Lyrene and her people would agree on amnesty if it meant returning to UEG space, they would most likely want to leave for their own worlds. But some might take her up on the offer.

Cole thought back to seeing thirty spartans in a single room. Ackerson now controlled those Spartans, and through him, Parangosky did. That was a force that couldn't be contested meaningfully. Although he was sure that the Spartan Twos would side with Halsey, no matter what happened. He wasn't sure about the Spartan Threes.

ONI was also tracking his every move. If Cole wanted to get involved, he would have to get a message to Halsey, but do it discreetly. He hoped Parangosky was genuine, but fear gripped his heart as he thought over all the possibilities. And even if he acted, it would be for naught if Parangosky had widespread popular support. Cole mused that perhaps that was the reason for ONI acting brazenly. Maybe they knew that their actions would drive opponents to silence, while the people and the junior officers would support ONI.

Cole cursed himself as he put the dots together. Or what he believed the dots were.

What if what ONI was involved in wasn't meant to be secret, and they were leaking parts to gauge responses and reactions? Their real plans might be hidden within further layers of secrecy and enigma. Right now, their actions were working. Increased popular support for the UNSC and ONI. While the younger generations of officers were proving to be appreciative of the changes that happened.

Could ONI be trying to provoke a response? What if they were acting just brazen enough to gain the support of ideological partners, while also giving their opponents just enough reason to begin planning against ONI, thereby justifying their removal from power?

Cole couldn't see what had motivated ONI's actions, and he grew increasingly agitated. Every conclusion he might draw could be one that ONI was expecting, or at least able to respond to. True. Ackerson might have made a mistake in contacting Cole. But the stakes for Cole were still too high to hedge his bets on. Perhaps he was playing into their hands by becoming paranoid enough to consider not involving himself?

Or Ackerson had indeed made a mistake, and Cole would instead play into ONI's hands if he didn't react to what he had heard.

Cole sighed, resigning himself to remaining uninvolved from any power struggle. His responsibility was for his wife and his soldiers. He'd do whatever was best for them.

-

**1800 hours, October 4th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)  
Spartan Branch Offices, Deck 1, Station Alpha.**

"John! It's good to see you again!" Said a voice that sounded to John as if it came from a distant memory. He turned to look at a bald ONI Officer with lightish-brown skin and short-cropped hair rolling towards him in a wheelchair.

"Fhajad," John said, instantly recognizing the Spartan washout. Fhajad had been a good friend of John during the Spartan training program, a skilled technician, and the top of his class in theoretical physics. John hadn't seen him since the Augmentations had nearly shattered his femurs and given the young man Parkinsons Disease. He extended a shaking hand to John, who grasped it firmly but gently.

John got down on one knee to be face to face with his old friend. "It is good to see you again." He noted that Fhajad had the rank pins of a Warrant Officer, and he immediately got to his feet to salute the man. "Warrant Officer Fhajad, apologies for the outburst."

"It's fine. I had hoped to see you when I was assigned to the Spartan Branch." Fhajad smiled. "Colonel Ackerson has been bringing together all the other washouts to assist in the Spartan Branch."

"All of them?" John asked. "Does that include the ones in Neutral Buoyancy Tanks?"

Fhajad nodded. "Even them. Come, I'll bring you to Cassandra-075. They just finished installing her tank." He leaned his head back into his chair, and the wheelchair rolled towards a side room. John couldn't help but notice the constant violent twitching by Fhajad as his superconducting nerves misfired. If not for the ceramic ossification of his bones, Fhajad would most likely have torn himself apart with his twitches, even with metallic frames around his limbs to inhibit the movement.

They entered a room containing a large tank filled with a thick viscous gel, in which a horrifically disfigured human floated. She had once been a spry young African woman, a skilled fighter and a quick thinker, with beautiful black hair that she had learned to braid herself. But her color and hair were gone now, leaving a mass of exposed bone, dark skin, red meat, and superconducting nerves. She was hooked in to the tank with wires fitted into slots across her spine and nervous system, while mechanical arm kept her spasming body in place. Her arms and legs were horrifically deformed, each of them different in size than the others, bent at odd angles where the ossification process had shattered and locked them in awkward angles, and swollen in areas where the muscle growth catalysts had failed. Cassandra's head was permanently bent to the right by a mangled and twisted spine, with a third of her skull replaced with a clear prosthetic that showed her brains, and the cybernetics inside of them that kept her alive. Cybernetic eyes looked out of the tank towards John, and Cassandra twitched. She extended an arm that looked more like a cancerous tentacle and placed it against the glass.

_"Hello, John." _A mechanical voice said from a voice modulator at the base of the tank. _"It is good to see you again."_ A mechanical arm extended from the side of the container in line with Cassandra's movement inside of it, offering itself to John, who shook it firmly.

John couldn't help but feel terrible for Cassandra. She was a mass of deformed flesh in a tank, fed through tubes, and connected to the outside world with cybernetics. He could scarcely imagine how he would have responded to such a thing happening to him. It spoke volumes about Cassandra's spirit that she hadn't asked for euthanasia. "It has been too long, Cassandra. Fhajad tells me you will be joining the Spartan Branch."

_"I am. Kirk and René have already been installed at our new base. I was sent here to help with planning your next mission._" The mechanical arm swiped itself across John's faceplate. _"It is better than being a calculator. I am happy to help the Spartans. However, I can."_

"You are a Spartan, Cassandra. Never forget it." John said. "Where have you been since the augmentations?"

_"Here and there. ONI moved me around to wherever they needed me. It is good to be useful. But don't let me get in the way. I am sure you have work to do."_ Cassandra's mechanical voice said. _"It is time for my maintenance." She pressed a button on the inside of her tank._

A pair of technicians entered the room, noticing John and Fhajad. They saluted Fhajad and eyed John warily. Then moved over towards the tank. "I'm sorry, but you have to leave. Cassandra needs her daily maintenance performed, and we need to sterilize the room for that."

"I'll visit you when I can, Cassandra," John promised. "Stay strong. I'm sure Halsey will get you out of that tank as soon as possible."

_"I lost hope for that years ago, John,_" Cassandra said, her voice tainted by grief.

John left the room. It had been good to visit Cassandra. But he couldn't help but feel disappointed at Halsey for not getting her out of the tank already. Surely Halsey could have created a treatment program already?

"I have to return to my post. Kurt is down the hall in his office." Fhajad said, pointing a shaking arm at the doorway to Kurt's office.

"Thank you," John said, moving up and knocking on the door to Kurt's office.

"Come in, Spartan." Kurt's voice said. John guessed Kurt had heard the footsteps and correctly identified them as a Spartan's.

"Lieutenant. I have an important matter to discuss." John-117 said as he entered the office set aside for Kurt-051.

Kurt was wearing an officer's uniform, looking up from the pile of paperwork on his desk. He motioned for a heavy chair. "Please call me Kurt. Have a seat, John." Kurt actually smiled softly at John, causing him to tilt his head at Kurt's almost casual attitude. He glanced at what Kurt was working on. John saw standard crew assignments and logistical forms Kurt had been signing.

John took the seat, the reinforced chair straining under the weight. "Lieu- Kurt. I am happy to see you alive." John swiped to the right on his faceplate, a Spartan smile. "But you have secluded yourself in this office, doing basic paperwork instead of joining our training exercises. Almost like you are avoiding us. What happened, Kurt?"

Kurt looked pained, leaning back and forming a pyramid with his hand. "The formation of the Spartan Branch is a tiring prospect. But you're right, I have been avoiding the Spartans. I feel guilty you didn't know I was alive."

"ONI hid your death," John said. "You were always the most moral and sociable Spartan. Your choice as the trainer of the Spartan Threes makes sense." John leaned forward. "But why do almost half of them show signs of PTSD? What happened to Alpha Company? Emile started insulting a Turian officer and then showed blatant insubordination. How did someone like him become a Spartan?"

Kurt sulked, his stern gaze cracking, and signs of deep emotional trauma seeping through. John was taken aback. Kurt had always been the most emotionally stoic Spartan around, even if he had been perhaps a bit too easy to make friends with the technicians and pilots that ferried the Spartans around.

Ackerson's voice came in from behind John. "They died. All three hundred of them." The Colonel had appeared in the doorframe, a datapad clutched under his arm.

John got up reflexively and immediately saluted Ackerson. "Colonel Ackerson, Sir."

"At ease, Master Chief," Ackerson said. "You aren't one of Halsey's pets anymore. You are a soldier under my command. Only salute me when in public. I don't want blind obedience."

"Sir?" John asked, confused by the remark he was a 'pet.' "What do you mean, pet? The Spartan Twos are the finest soldiers in human history. We aren't toys."

"I will explain everything, Master Chief John-117," Ackerson said. "But first you need to verbally agree to not break codeword classification in accordance with the Wartime Articles of Secrecy" He held up his omni-tool, holding it towards John.

The Master Chief had done this kind of thing before and knew exactly what to say. "I, Master Chief 117, verbally agree to follow Codeword classification in accordance with the JAG 4465/LHG protocol, and the Wartime Articles of secrecy." He spoke into the omni-tool, reciting the words from memory.

"Thank you, Master Chief." Ackerson nodded.

"So, as I said. You are part of a prototype group of supersoldiers created by Doctor Catherine Halsey as a flight of fancy." Ackerson stated. "Any project that kills or cripples half of its soldiers is a prototype at best, and a failure at worst. You have seen the broken bodies left behind by the augmentation procedures. And worst of all, no new Spartan Twos were created. Your record still speaks for itself. But there is no shame in saying that as an attempt to create a new type of soldier for humanity, the Spartan Two program failed. You're prototypes that never had direct successors. And if it were up to Halsey, you would have been the last."

John slowly nodded. There was truth to Ackerson's words. The Spartan Two program had failed to produce more than a single batch of soldiers and had produced more dead or crippled Spartans than fully augmented individuals. But it still hurt vaguely to hear Ackerson say it. "You said Alpha Company died. How have I never heard of a whole company of Spartans?"

"Because Alpha Company was created to die, Spartan. They were created using the lessons from the Spartan Two program, the lessons Halsey blocked at every possible opportunity, and tried to bury. The Spartan Threes were sent time and time again against impossible odds to buy the UNSC the time it needed. Without Alpha Company, the Citadel would have only met glassed rocks."

It all became clear. "And the ones who joined us are the only ones who survived," John confirmed. "That explains the psychological conditions." The thought of three hundred fallen Spartans disturbed John, but he didn't show it outwardly. He wanted to know where Ackerson and Kurt were going.

Ackerson grit his teeth. "That is true. These Spartan Threes are those singled out for extraordinary capabilities and given advanced training and Mjolnir armor. You can thank Lieutenant Kurt for the initiative, he came up with it."

John was not surprised. Kurt always had a distinct eye for capability and talent.

"They are the last survivors of two-man kill teams deployed against the Covenant. But their recruitment was also different. You see, they were volunteers. Orphans left behind by the Covenant."

That shook John. "Orphan volunteers? Not conscripts like the Spartan Twos?" The thought rankled him, it felt like taking advantage. But them being volunteers struck a chord with John.

Ackerson put a hand on John's shoulder. "No. They weren't ripped from their beds like you and used to fuel the mad fancies of a woman like Halsey. They were orphans, given a chance to fight back against the Covenant. Their deaths were a sad necessity, but billions have been saved by their actions. Precious time was earned that made the future of the Spartans possible. Your future." Ackerson sounded excited, filled with purpose and drive. John almost felt inclined to agree with the Colonel.

John was silent, deep in thought. "Why do you keep deriding Doctor Halsey? Without her, you wouldn't even have been able to start the Spartan Three program. Is she not involved in any of this? What about the technicians and doctors that aided in the original Spartan Two program?"

Ackerson crossed his arms. "The staff is involved, but she is not. In fact, she has been blocking every attempt to create more Spartan Twos. The only reason more Spartans were created is thanks to me going behind Halsey's back to set up the Spartan Three program. We used improved technology that didn't kill a single Spartan Three during their augmentation, and we used the very best personnel available to train them. We are even bringing back many of the crippled Spartan Twos to aid in the Spartan Branch."

"I have talked with Fhajad and Cassandra. It is good to see them working with other Spartans again." John said. He paused, then added. "But what is this about Halsey stopping the creation of more Spartans?" He glanced at Kurt for confirmation. He was inclined to disbelieve anyone other than a Spartan who spoke ill about Halsey.

Kurt nodded gravely. "I didn't believe it myself. But it's true. She tried to lock access to any data on the augmentation procedures and sabotaged every attempt to create a second generation of Spartan Twos. I checked it multiple times, John. Colonel Ackerson is speaking the truth here. She even transferred the washouts far away so she wouldn't have to look at them." Kurt sounded angry.

John felt conflicted. He had nothing but respect for Catherine Halsey, but couldn't help but feel betrayed. Half of the Spartan two trainees, the closest thing he had to a family, had died during the gruesome augmentations. And to hear that Halsey had refused to create more, to let their deaths mean something, hit a part of John he didn't know he still had in him. He felt angry and disappointed at Doctor Halsey, for not creating another generation of Spartans. But that anger felt like poison to his very being, to the view he had of Doctor Halsey. He felt a sickness in his stomach that he'd never truly felt before. An emotional pain he didn't know he still had in him.

John paused, then said. "Then, Halsey was wrong. We need more Spartans. Humanity needs more Spartans to defend it." John looked at Ackerson. "My Spartan Twos will show you what we are capable of."


	66. Chapter 66

**1400, December 7th, 2542.  
Ectanus 45 system. L2 Lagrange point.**

Cole stood on the bridge of the UNSC _Punic _as it left slipspace. The day he'd been preparing for, for what felt like years, had finally come. He'd gone through his plans time and time again with every strategist and tactician in Coalition High Command with the right security clearances. He'd hammered out numbers with Karandis, talked tactics with Aethyta, and talked strategies with Jondum Bau.

"The Covenant fleet is assembling in orbit of the planet. They must have detected our approach." Said Dove from his holotank. Dove was a loyal and reliable AI that Cole trusted implicitly. Dove had taken on the form of a withered old man sitting on a bench, surrounded by pigeons and white doves. He was sitting awkwardly, a pigeon sitting on his head. Dove's avatar stood up, produced a top hat, and placed it over the pigeon. He cracked his neck and wrists as he spoke. "One Supercarrier, fifteen Assault Carriers, three hundred Battlecruisers, and six hundred escorts. I am counting smaller formations slipping into positions throughout the star system"

Cole nodded gravely. It was too late to turn back, and as he'd feared, the initial estimates of Chi Rho's defenses had been merely the prelude for a larger force. But as he thought the odds over, he decided that they were still feasible.

The UNSC had also been able to gather more ships and troops than originally estimated. With the Batarian entry into the war, many Turian ships had been freed up and taken up UNSC garrison duties, while the Batarians provided massive transport fleets, that let the Coalition quickly shuffle their forces around to gather the bulk of the UNSC Marine Corps for the final battle. Although the origin of these bulk transport ships still rankled Cole. Ferrying around millions of soldiers in converted slave-haulers made his gut turn.

The original purpose of which was not mentioned in polite company. The UNSC deployed nearly eighty percent of its fleet to the battle, as well as another nine million soldiers gathered from the far reaches of the UNSC. Veterans of seventeen years of war, gathered together for the most important battle yet.

Cole didn't want to think of the kind of losses those soldiers would take, and pushed all emotion out of his head. He thought of them purely as numbers. He was going to send ten million of the finest soldiers in the UNSC into a bloody meat grinder, and almost twice as many allied forces. And he was still unsure if he'd brought enough. If Cole could have done so, he would have brought more. But there was only so much transport space available. It had gotten to the point that the Coalition had resorted to planning to land whole freighters packed with troops, and march them out to immediately engage the enemy, while the ships were turned into impromptu fortifications.

There would be no retreat. This was their only chance.

Cole had seen the battle plan for the surface, and been horrified by them. The plans to resupply the troops on the surface amounted to what was effectively drowning the enemy in men and material, while scraping together whatever survived previous attacks and sending them back into the grinder.

"Start the assault," Cole ordered. He activated his Omni-tool, and waved it in front of the strategic screen in front of him, and brought up his own preferred display. Fleet dispositions and movements were shown alongside casualty figures, real-time views of engagements, and a vast strategic map, divided into each part of the massive engagement appeared before him.

Cole took a deep breath, closed his eyes, then he exhaled and fully threw himself into command. His crew glanced at him, eager to see him at work.

"All ships. The time has come to drive the Covenant from human space. This is what Operation: CRUSADER has been leading up to. We will break the Covenant here, and then we will drive them out of human space, and into whatever pits they crawled out of. I am counting on all of you to do what's right."

Cole stood in absolute silence as the UNSC _Punic _followed the battle plan and began heading towards the largest Covenant fleet concentration orbiting Chi Rho. He could feel the soft hum of the engines beneath his feet, and noted they felt differently from his Valiant-Class Heavy-Cruiser. Unlike normal naval doctrine, the UNSC did not stop to get into formation after departing slipspace, instead each ship's engines were pushed to the limit as they headed towards the fight, and the Covenant ships that were now getting into position. Every second was critical, and the UNSC would take the risk, so they could inflict more damage upon the Covenant. They were heading towards an area of space just ten-thousand kilometers wide where their MAC guns were in range, but they were beyond the Covenant anti-orbital defenses. And that was where they'd stay until the planetary assault took down the guns.

Dove's avatar flickered. "Fleet Admiral, the Coalition fleet elements have left FTL and reported their positions. Updating strategic projections."

The large screen Cole used when coordinating his battles updated to show the positions of the Asari, Salarian, and the Batarian fleets in the system. Their arrival had been exactly on time. As he watched, the Salarian fleet broke off into its component parts and headed towards the Covenant space-based infrastructure throughout the outer edges of the system, moving to contest the Covenant's hold over the outer system. It was hoped that the prospect of losing stations to boarding parties, might prompt a Covenant overreaction.

The Batarian fleet broke off and headed towards Prometheus Four, the tidally locked planet closest to the sun. On the surface of the scorching world, the Batarians would fight for control of the planet's orbital dockyards and deploy strike forces to infiltrate the Covenant antimatter refineries on the surface. Cole wished them the best of luck.

The Asari fleet jumped back into FTL, heading towards the inner planets and the asteroid belt. Their sleek aesthetically pleasing ships would throw themselves into a bloody meat grinder for control of the inner planets, where they could target potential supply depots and repair yards.

It gnawed at Cole to see the ships of his allies leaving for these meat grinders without sending at least some Cruisers to assist them. But his cruisers would just slow the Citadel's ships down as they danced around at near-superluminal speeds. And he needed every UNSC ship he had for his own battle.

A glance at the distance between the UNSC and the Covenant fleet confirmed the UNSC had entered effective MAC gun range. "Bring up the minefield." He commanded, and the strategic map showed a spread of marked dots throughout the Covenant formation. The blast radius covered much of the Covenant fleet. But a good chunk of the ships were protected by other ships being in their path, or not having enough mines nearby.  
His eyes lingered upon the supercarrier, which had a hundred mines heading towards it. They were in range.

Satisfied with the dispersal, he gave the command. "Light it up."

A few seconds passed as the transmission travelled towards the three hundred and twenty small nuclear mines that had drifted stealthily into the Covenant fleet. Planted ahead of time by most of the UNSC prowler corps, the devices had been deployed and set to float towards the Covenant forces in orbit.

For a moment, space lit up in hundreds of nuclear blasts. Cloaked nuclear mines laid in preparation of the battle suddenly ignited hidden thrusters and flew towards their designated atargets at high speed, getting into range and setting off their nuclear warheads. The Covenant ships docked at their fuelling stations were caught unprepared, and melted away like wax before a blowtorch, setting off catastrophic explosions as the fuel depots erupted from secondary explosions, and roaring fire blasted through the fuel lines connecting to other ships.

The tightly organized Covenant fleet broke apart, moving at high speed to avoid the wreckage of destroyed ships, all the while trying to move back into position to counter the UNSC's arrival. It was a scene of chaos as fuel tanks ruptured and detonated in brilliant blasts. Radiation warnings lit up on the strategic display as reactor after rea

"The Covenant fleet is charging its plasma lines." Ensign Clovis yelled. "UNSC fleet assets have entered optimal firing range."

"Stick with the plan. Keep diverting all power to the MAC guns"

_This is it. The deciding moment. _He told himself as he watched the charge of the MAC guns building. _Their fleet is weakened. One full volley. That's all I need. One volley before the Covenant ships restore their shields. One volley and I can keep the Covenant on the back foot, and wage the battle on my own terms._

"Detecting blue-shifted signatures. The Turians have arrived on schedule."

Cole nodded, putting his hands behind his back as he continued to observe the strategic displays. "And in perfect formation." Cole noted. The Turian ships had flipped their ships around to decelerate out of FTL, thousands of thrusters aimed towards the Covenant.

The Turian fleet immediately split into ten fleets of a thousand ships each, and flipped around to face the Covenant ships. The Turians accelerated again, flying towards the Covenant fleet at near-lightspeed. As Cole watched, the fleets divided again, breaking off towards the many wounded Covenant ships that were still reeling from the detonation of the nuclear minefield.

The Turian lead ships dove headlong into the Covenant formation, where the plasma leaks and nuclear radiation left by the mines obscured them from the sensor readings. Cole's heart felt like it stopped beating as he waited to see what would happen next, or the light-lagged aftermath. This part of the battle was all on the Turians. Cole knew they had dived right into the formation of Covenant ships, their mass-accelerated roaring, and torpedo racks emptying as they attacked wounded Covenant ships mercilessly, and distracted the Covenant ships to allow for the UNSC to charge its MAC guns, while getting back into position. And due to the proximity to Covenant ships, they were somewhat protected from the Covenant anti-orbital weaponry upon the planet below.

There was complete silence on the bridge as the sensory officers tried to cut through the interference from the battle in close orbit. The readings showed ships moving throughout the knife-fight, gravitic anomalies, and fusion reactors going off.

Then the first Turian cruiser to emerge, its hull molten and torn, but both engines burning at high speed, burst out from the melee, quickly followed by hundreds of other Turian ships in close formation. These ships turned off their engines for just a moment, then turned around while still moving at near-superluminal speeds. Their mass accelerators continued to fire.

"Fleet Admiral, Covenant Stormcutter packs and CRS-Class light cruisers are breaking off from the fleet and pursuing the Turian ships." He paused for but a moment, his holographic body flickering. "Admiral Karandist reports that between fifty and a hundred Covenant ships have been destroyed so far… Fifteen-hundred Turian ships were destroyed, four hundred are disengaging from the fight."

_A sixth of the Turian fleet lost in a minute. _Cole felt an uncomfortable tension in his gut as he ran the numbers._ Average Covenant ship mass of a ship of the line times a hundred, nineteen hundred Turian ships… Subtract heavily crippled ships. _

An equal loss in tonnage. Or close enough.

Then the Supercarrier opened fire. In an instant, the area of space occupied by the Turian ships lit up as the full firepower of the monstrous ship was unleashed. What had to be hundreds if not thousands of Covenant pulse-laser turrets opened fire simultaneously, burning through Turian ships faster than Cole's strategic display could track. His heart almost froze as over a thousand Turian ships disappeared in seconds. Caught within close range of the Supercarrier.

"That Supercarrier was hit by enough nukes to slag a continent!" Cole exclaimed hyperbolically. "Dove. Concentrate all Punic Super MAC guns upon the Supercarrier. Full charge. Wide dispersal across its shield sections."

Cole looked at the screen again. The UNSC fleet was approaching the red line that represented the effective range of Covenant anti-orbital weaponry, as well as their defensive stations.

"Fleet MAC guns are fully charged, Fleet Admiral." Dove said, a hint of concern and distress in his normally stoic voice. "Firing." The AI said, and the ship shook as the Super-MAC's of the UNSC Punic opened fire upon the Supercarrier. Eight rounds that could instantly destroy a Battlecruiser, or wipe out a small country. All concentrated upon a single ship.

Across the UNSC fleet, thousands of fully charged MAC guns fired simultaneously, sending their projectiles towards the stricken Covenant ships.

It was a monstrous salvo the likes of which had never been seen before in this war. The MAC rounds slammed into the weakened shields and exposed hulls left by the nuclear minefield, punching through and gutting weakened ships in catastrophic internal detonations. It was as if a massive shotgun wielded by an angry god had opened fire at the Covenant, with predictable results.

Eight Super MAC slugs, two for each Supercarrier the UNSC brought to the battle, flew far ahead of the smaller MAC rounds of the rest of the fleet, heading for the Supercarrier, and eight Covenant cruisers moved to place themselves in the path of the projectiles. Cole bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood as the cruisers took the impact, and the Super MAC rounds broke apart into a spread of relativistic buckshot.

The Supercarrier lit up in a bright white glow that was bright enough it shone brighter than any plasma fire or reactor detonations in the background. There was a blast of electrical discharge as the shields of the Supercarrier gave in, and large rents were torn in the hull. But Cole refused to believe for even an instant that was all the dreaded ship had to offer. The Supercarrier's massive engines lit, and it began moving away from the UNSC fleet, moving down into the atmosphere, all the while turning its undamaged side to face the UNSC.

"Sitrep on the Supercarrier," Cole demanded from Ensign Clovis. Clovis was a loyal and obedient young man, one that Cole trusted to do whatever he asked, even if the orders could stray into illegal territory. He was a leftover from Cole stacking his bridge crew with loyalists in anticipation of his now-canceled plan to desert the UNSC.

"The supercarrier is moving into a lower orbit, using the curvature of the planet and its atmosphere as a shield." Dove made a quick hand gesture and brought up a quick overview of the position of the Supercarrier, and the atmospheric density surrounding it.

"Dove. Will our rounds still be effective with the carrier hiding in the atmosphere?" Cole asked quickly, as he began thinking of how to deal with the new issue.

Dove flickered twice, then nodded. He clapped his hands, and summoned a flock of pigeons that flew through the holographic displays, transforming into the projected trajectories of the next volley. "The impact of the SuperMAC upon the upper atmosphere will disperse the rounds into a spread of relativistic plasma that will wash over the Supercarrier if its shields hold. "

"Noted. Continue charging Super MAC for another volley."

"Admiral." One of his bridge officers shouted. "Covenant ships are charging plasma lines. Counting over two hundred distinctive signatures."

Cole noted that the Covenant ships that had not broken off to pursue the Turian fleet were moving into formation at high speed, lines on their hull glowing brightly as they charged their plasma lines.

"We trained for this, people, prepare an interception screen," Cole ordered, knowing all too well that his well-drilled crew were already doing so. There was little room for personal initiative in long range artillery duels. Everyone followed the plan that had been laid out in advance, and would follow it until the full engagement began. Then Cole would have his hands full trying to keep control over his forces. But he did it anyway to appear confident in front of the crew. "We got the first blows in. Now the real fight begins."

The next few seconds felt like an eternity until Cole saw dozens of bright flashes.

The _Punic _shook violently and made the distinct sound of a ship that had suffered an internal detonation. Cole was almost thrown from his feet, if not for a guard on the bridge catching him. He quickly got back into position, giving the guard a quick thumbs up. "Damage report." Cole demanded calmly from the holotank holding Dove, as the warning lights aboard the ship activated. He could feel thumps through the deck plating and knew them to be the sounds of emergency blast doors closing to contain a vacuum breach.

"Energy Projector impacts on the portside. Clean cut. Twenty decks have been vented. Two thousand casualties among the crew." Dove's AI sat down on a bench and held a large pigeon between his hands. A very fat pigeon. On his face was a look of stress and consternation. "I am closing blast doors to contain the breach, and dispatching repair control teams." the AI paused for a moment. "The forward armor belt has survived three Energy Projector impacts. Armor holding."

"Plasma torpedo volley detected."

Cole glanced at the strategic overlay again noting that the UNSC fleet was finally back in position after their departure from slipspace. "All ships. Fire interception screen." Cole ordered. "Full speed into engagement range."

It was risky but better than sitting at range while the Covenant sniped at them with their energy projectors and plasma torpedoes. The UNSC had to close in so the Covenant couldn't dodge MAC rounds.

"Delivery system dispersion is successful. Optimal coverage for the incoming plasma torpedoes. Impact in thirty-two seconds."

The large strategic screen that showed a real-time feed of the Coalition fleet lit up with the thousands of small white lines representing the modified archer missiles. Each of these represented one of the new plasma torpedo interceptors. They homed in on the Plasma torpedoes, with every torpedo being targeted by multiple missiles.

Cole called up an enhanced image from the telescopic arrays on the Punic. If this tactic failed, the UNSC fleet would be slaughtered in the incoming volley.

There was a bright flash as more than a thousand plasma torpedoes were blown apart, dispersing in expanding clouds of red and blue fire. It was like a wall of fire had been ignited that separated the UNSC fleet from their opponent. The dots signifying the Covenant plasma torpedoes winked out one by one, but not fast enough.

"Half of Covenant plasma torpedoes disabled. Launching further interceptors." Dove stated. It was almost a breach of protocol for Dove to make the judgment call, but Cole trusted the AI. And it was in the spirit of his earlier orders. A good captain could think in sync with his AI, and finish each other's actions.

Another spread of missiles launched, these ones directly targeting individual plasma torpedoes, taking another score of the dreaded weapons. Then the remaining torpedoes impacted the UNSC fleet.

The _Punic _did not shake.

"Casualties," Cole stated calmly.

Dove began listing the numbers. "Sixty-three Cruisers, a hundred destroyers, three super-heavy cruisers, and two battleships. Damage sustained by twenty percent of the fleet." Dove flickered. "Supercarrier _Verdun _has been cored by an energy projector strike through the bridge and past the main reactor. Estimated thirty percent crew fatalities. Complete rupture of the primary reactor." Dove paused to process a piece of information. "Surviving crew will receive terminal radiation poisoning within ten minutes." There was no emotion in his voice.

Cole spat out a curse. He opened a communications link to the stricken Supercarrier. "_Verdun_, break off and abandon ship."

There was silence, followed by a weak static-riddled response. "This is Gunne- Lieutena- B- re attempting -airs. Super MAC Two still holding charge."

"Sailor, there is enough radiation aboard your ship to boil an egg. If you don't abanon ship, you will have to be removed using _buckets._ Evacuate immediately."

"Negative. -dead already -ne final shot. -ood luck, -Admiral."

Cole shook his head, then nodded. He lit his omni-tool again, and began to transmit a message. "Understood. I am transmitting the clearance codes to disable the security and failsafes of the Super MAC. Overcharge the coils and be ready to fire."

There was no response. Cole continued as before. He now had a single overcharged Super MAC inside a dead ship in reserve. He forgot the doomed men aboard it, all the while making a mental node to have them posthumously awarded.

"Dove. How long does the crew have left?"

"Incapacitating internal necrosis within a day. More if they drug themselves."

"Noted. Tell all ships to fire upon opportunity targets. Have each Punic keep one barrel charged for if the Supercarrier shows itself. Concentrate fire on the enemy Assault Carriers. ."

The ship shook. "Assault Carrier disabled. Scrambling coup de grace."

Across the fleet, MAC guns began firing freely against the Covenant, as massive missile swarms and fighters were launched to head for weakened Covenant ships to deliver killing blows. But the UNSC didn't advance further, lest they enter the effective range of the Covenant anti-orbital defenses. It was a standoff.

Cole glanced at the Strategic map. The Turian fleet was stuck in with the lighter elements of the Covenant fleet. The constant updates sent by the Turian fleet showed a very positive picture of their actions. They were moving with ruthless efficiency, moving to isolate Covenant ships and take them on in detail. The loss of a thousand ships so far had done nothing to lessen their righteous fury. They were spending lives to win, and didn't have the slightest qualms about doing so.

He glanced at the time. The first reports from the Salarians would be coming in any second from now.

As if on queue, Ensign Clovis spoke up. "Salarian fleet elements are reporting successful engagements with Covenant patrols and defensive installations. Covenant forces are engaged and on the defensive."

"Covenant fleet elements in the asteroid belt and outer gas giants are pulling to defend their logistics. The Asari fleet is reporting successful engagements within the inner system, but no victories so far."

Cole made a wide arc with his omni-tooled hand to expand the strategic view. With a few quick flourishes he brought up a full map of the system, and with another three shortcuts, brought up a full map of the system.

The Covenant capital ships were still moving to engage the UNSC, with smaller packs of two or three battlecruisers breaking off and heading towards the skirmishes that were popping up across the system. Cole nodded slowly as the strategic map of the system continued to change, showing the dozens of separate offensives throughout the system. If the Covenant drove off the UNSC's allies, they could potentially envelop the UNSC. Then, two of the eleven remaining Assault Carriers broke off from the slowly developing melee, and began charging their slipspace drives. It didnt take a genius to find out their most likely destination. "Dove. Command the fifth and ninth fleets to support the Salarians and Asari against the Assault Carriers."

The Covenant fleet was breaking up across the system to move against the Coalition's forces, while a hardened spearhead consisting of their super capital was combining their firepower and returning fire with the UNSC ships. But they were visibly decreasing their speed. Then they began turning, with the screen showing their new projected orbits to put them behind Chi Rho, and out of the line of fire of the Coalition ships.

"Fleet Admiral. Incoming message from Fleet Admiral Karandis." Dove stated.

"Put him through." He commanded.

An image of Karandis wearing bloody armor with a cracked helmet covered by a patch seal appeared before Cole. There were sparks all around him, and there were pained noises and yelling in the background. ,"Cole. I need to pull my ships back and return to a ranged engagement. I'm down three thousand ships, with another two damaged. Their Supercarrier is hiding in the atmosphere, but the rest of their fleet is pulling away from the planet to hide from your guns. We believe they're going to try and recharge their shields."

"I can see that. I'll signal the landing forces to deploy onto the planet immediately. We'll put ourselves between the Covenant and the planet, while the ground forces take the planet. I'll position my supercarriers so the Supercarrier can't get in range of the landing zones without compromising its defenses."

"And then we'll crush them." Karandis finished. "My strategic VI calculates that the Covenant fleet has lost a third of its ships, to a fourth of ours. The gap is only increasing. We just need to push a bit ha-"

The feed cut out, replaced by static.

"Hail them again." Cole said. "And clean up the static."

"Karandis's flagship has been taken out by an energy projector strike." Dove stated, and the room went cold for Cole.

Something boiled up inside of Cole as he thought back to Karandis's friendly attitude, the way he'd been able to see whenever Cole was pushed to the limit by his task, and the way the Turian had done monotonous administrative duties without a hint of annoyance.

"Damn them!" He shouted. "Damn each and every one of those split-lipped hinge-headed bastards to the deepest darkest pits of hell." His shout made the bridge fall quiet, as the crew looked at him with mouths agape. They had never seen him raise his voice.

**Fleetmaster's Sanctum, Covenant supercarrier Through Moonlight Reflection Upon This Faithfull Odyssey Do We Find Salvation From This Universe Of Sin, In Which We Have Been Shackled (abbreviation: Moonlight Reflection), low Chi Rho orbit, Ectanus 45 system.**

Thel Vadamee carefully examined the battle that was unfolding. The Covenant was winning at the current pace of ship losses. Or so he thought. As he ran the calculations again and again, it seemed clear that no matter what happened, the enemy fleet would be reduced to a mere shadow of its former selves.

His fleet commanders all had their orders, and were executing them without fail. His eyes carefully scanned for any potential weaknesses in the enemy formation he could exploit, but spotted none so far. But the battle was not favoring the Covenant. They'd lost too many ships to the ambush, and more to the suicidal charge through their formation. The Turians had shown incredible bravery, and Thel felt honored to have given so many of them a warrior's death.

The plasma-torpedo interceptions had been an unwelcome surprise however, and had left the Covenant open to a much heavier second volley from the Human's ships that the Fleetmaster had expected. His energy projectors were taking their toll on the enemy, while pulse lasers and plasma barrages slowly ground down the enemy ships in a long ranged duel. But it wasn't the quick decisive destruction of human ships that usually followed a torpedo barrage. Instead it was turning into a long ranged duel.

He'd ordered his supercarrier into the atmosphere of Chi Rho's northern pole, with all shield power diverted facing the dreaded human heavy carriers. He'd wait until his ships had taken out the enemy carriers, then burst forth from the planet to slaughter the enemy ships. He wanted to lead the venerable Supercarrier into battle. But the ancient ship was a relic from the earliest days of the Covenant, and its Forerunner salvaged power grid was utterly irreplaceable. If the ship was too heavily damaged, he might as well have lost the battle for all the good it did his honor.

Just the rites to repair the hull would take decades. And he needed to conserve the ship for the push on the human core worlds. He also had numerous relics aboard, as well as dozens of San'Shyuum priests of numerous sects. The loss of the Supercarrier would see his line expunged for failure.

Across from him was a San'Shyuum sitting atop a hover-chair. He observed Thel with interest, but did not say much. It was a minor official from the Ministry of Resolution whose name he hadn't bothered to remember. He had arrived alongside the Corvette that had brought the Silent Shadow to Chi Rho, to report personally to Truth.

"You are losing." The San'shyuum stated.

"I am not neither winning nor losing." Thel said, then quickly snapped to one of his aides when he noticed a small hole in his defenses. "Order the _Cleanser of Sin_ to execute a tactical jump into orbit of supply station X-194 shore up its defenses. Its escorts will jump behind the enemy and catch them in a crossfire, then they will regroup and head for solar station X-1201.A, for a counterattack upon the Turians."

He turned back to the San'Shyuum "Their new weapons put us on the defensive. But they are losing momentum. After the fleet has orbited the moon and fully recharged their shields, we will attack them with all the fury we can muster." He was starting to be annoyed by the Prophet.

Thel noted an air of tension on the bridge of the Supercarrier at the conversation between him and the official. A hard to perceive but undeniable feeling of tension that felt like it was starting to boil.

"Then you had better prepare your orbital defenses." The San'shyuum said and pointed at a new enemy fleet that was approaching the planet at high speed. Their orbital was unmistakable as an orbital insertion. There had to be thousands of ships, and many more smaller transport ships. As he watched, the human fleet launched over a thousand nuclear missiles whose orbit would see themselves slam down onto the planet's surface. Approximately one minute before the fastest ships in the transport fleet would enter the atmosphere. Half an hour later, the rest of the fleet would arrive.

"They'll drown in their own blood." Thel muttered under his breath. This threw his plans into chaos. The rest of his ships were moving out of range so they could recharge their shields, while his Supercarrier would be exposed if it rushed towards the transport ships. He felt the eyes of the official upon him, dreading what he might order if Thel 'Vadamee risked the sacred ship they were upon..

"Fleetmaster. There are demons on the surface!" A Sangheili said from behind his station. "The second divine assembly shrine reports drop pods." He held a hand against the side of his head. "Unconfirmed reports of Shades and Witches."

"You can go contact High Charity and tell the High Council I need reinforcements." Thel almost yelled at the San'Shyuum. "If" He emphasized "We do not win. There will be nothing between the enemy and the Covenant fringe. You can tell the Hierarchs that."

"Worry not, fleet master. The Hierarchs have sent their finest to counter these demons." The San'Shyuum said with a smile, then glanced to the side, where Thel could see a faint shimmer in the air.


	67. Chapter 67

**1430, December 7th, 2542.  
Chi Rho Surface. Supervolcano  
**  
John-117 clambered out of his drop pod and quickly surveyed his surroundings.

His pod had landed inside what looked to be a warehouse. All around him there were massive containers, twice the size of any human cargo containers, and reaching far up into the sky. The Covenant were stacking cargo containers nearly half a kilometer high, all the while moving them back and forth using massive mechanical claws that came down from the ceiling. There was a constant flurry of movement, the shouting of guttural alien tongues, and the sound of heavy machinery transporting the products of Covenant industry. Alongside the containers, there were massive plates of solid purple which were undoubtedly Covenant nanocomposite armor. Thousands of plates a meter across, and wider than a Scarab were being stacked and moved with the ease a child might move around toys.

For a moment, it provided John an almost terrifying insight into the sheer level of Covenant industry. He was on a planet the Covenant had owned for seven years, and they were already producing enough material to outproduce any human planet short of Reach or Earth.

The rest of Blue Team slowly creeped into view, moving silently across the ground floor, staying in the shadows beneath the moving platforms overhead. So far they hadn't been spotted. Or if they had, the response hadn't reached Blue Team yet. The rest of Blue Team were absolutely silent, not even daring to flash their status lights or transmit a close ranged broadcast.

Linda was the first to appear, like everyone else on the mission, she was loaded for bear, carrying several explosive charges, and enough grenades to blast her way out of almost any situation. In her hands was a Stanchion Rifle. The somewhat outdated weapon had been updated with Eezonic recoil dampeners, and improved targeting systems. The Magaze was gone, replaced with a somewhat bulkier micro-fabricator, with a slot for adding additional feedstock to the weapon.

Kelly made a quick hand signal. "_Objective: Where?_" Kelly was carrying what the Citadel called a Graal Spike Thrower. How she had gotten an illegal heavy shotgun that fired massive exploding spikes, John hadn't deigned to ask. Alongside the Spike thrower, Kelly also carried a Salarian Venom Shotgun. The latter of which, when folded up, fit quite snugly on her lower back.

Fred was the last to appear. On his back, he carried the Warp bomb that would be used to either destroy the primary reactor, or destroy whatever regulating mechanism contained the shield volcano the Covenant had tapped into. Just like John, his primary weapon was a modified MA5B merged with a Phaeston rifle's internals, and overclocked for Spartan physiology.

John held up a hand, showing Kelly the palm, then clenching twice. He brought up an orbital image of where they had arrived. They were roughly two kilometers from what had been identified as the control mechanism for the supervolcano the Covenant had managed to tap into. Their task was to destroy it, then evacuate before the shield volcano erupted, and covered half the planet with ash.

John made a chopping motion in the direction of their objective, then tapped three times on his palm, the order and position of each tap indicating where Blue-Two through Four would be relative to John. The other Spartans signed acknowledgement, and they advanced.

The Spartans were in their element here. While the enemy was distracted by an orbital assault, and Citadel Special Forces raided other locations in the Covenant Assembly Yard, the Spartans could slip past them with contemptible ease.

He carefully climbed a gantry towards a walkway that was out of the line of sight of the few Covenant workers and overseers Blue Team had spotted in the warehouse. They crossed it silently, then headed into the factory complex as a whole. Dirty purple gave way to dim grey panels and flickering lights as they entered a maintenance pathway. The only sounds were the soft taps of their footsteps as they accelerated their pace.

A squad of Jackals rushed past them, neglecting to look into the darkened alcove Blue-Team was moving through. The Spartans passed behind them without even the scrape of their power-armored feet giving away their position. John kept an eye on his sattelite map as he moved, making quick hand signals as he stayed in the lead, motioning for members of Blue Team to rush forward and cover the advance. There was the sound of gunfire in the distance, combined with the whoosh of biotic blasts and the war cries of Elites. He constructed a mental map of his surroundings using the sounds of combat, as reference points. If each Citadel force was attracting the closest Covenant forces, he would be able to move easiest by staying between the fights.

They approached a large doorway which was marked by Covenant warning runes, his armor translated as "Sanctified Admission Only." A quick bit of deductive reasoning based upon the Covenant's fundamentalist nature, made John confident that this meant the room was most likely the Covenant equivalent of a control station, or an area of the facility only open to authorized personnel.

John made a quick chopping motion with his hand, pointed at the door, then made a series of subtle twists and movements of his head. _Objective: Breach. Blue-Two. Go._

Fred moved up, knelt down before the doorway, then lit both his omni-tooled hands. The first he placed upon the doorway, using the advanced instruments to take measurements of the kind of lock he was dealing with, the other fabricated a mixture of drills and small plasma torches he took to the mechanism.

John tapped his left wrist where a man might put a watch. Fred heard the noise, and made three subtle nods, each with a minute difference in angle and duration, followed by a subtle twitch of his right shoulder. _Around three minutes. One if I trip the alarm. Your call._

_Silent. _John signed back. Fred nodded. There were brief flashes as Fred ignited his plasma torches for brief bursts, followed intermittently by short scrapes and soft pops, as the Spartan got to work.

John stood behind Fred, scanning the hallway for any Covenant patrols that might be heading their way. None appeared, which only made John paranoid. Either it was another case of the Covenant letting their fundamentalism get the best of them, or the door wasn't actually that important. Or it was a trap. John admitted. But Blue Team had fought its way out of traps before, oftentimes intentionally setting one off to draw in the enemy.

There was a soft hiss, and the door slid open. On the other side was a long hallway nearly a hundred meters long. He glanced at the orbital map again, seeing that this had to be the elevated walkway that led from the warehouse, towards the central structure at the heart of the Assembly city. John was about to give a command, only for an alarm to start shrieking, and warning lights began flashing.

Fred made some angry grumbles and reached for his rifle. He scanned the hallway ahead of him. "Clear. Must have been an automatic alarm when the door opened."

"We got incoming." Linda said, as she fired her sniper rifle at a corner, braining an Elite that ran around the corner. She fired again, sending another Elite sprawling and tripping up its comrades.

John switched his assault rifle to explosive rounds, and opened fire on the pileup. Fred saw what he was doing, and immediately joined, firing armor piercing rounds instead. The Elite advance halted completely as their front ranks were churned up by the firepower of the Spartans. John slowly backpedaled through the doorway. "Blue Two, Blue Three. Close the door." He commanded tersely as he continued to lay down suppressive fire on the Covenant.

Fred and Kelly got up, and each grabbed one part of the sliding doors, and with great exertion, pulled them back out of the walls they'd slid into, and closed them again. John spotted a brief lull in the fighting, then switched his aim to where the door mechanisms were. He fired a burst of armor piercing rounds at the machinery, making sure the door couldn't slide open again. "Blue-Four, Rig the tube for demolition. I want it to fall with the Covenant inside." He commanded.

Linda immediately began placing charges equidistant around the hallway, placing them near to where the walkway connected to the warehouse. He brought up her omni-tool and pressed a quick series of commands. The charges all made a clicking noise, followed by the sounds of suction.

Kelly fired her Spike Thrower through the small crack in the door, throwing an Elite back towards the wall behind him and impaling him upon it. She emptied her magazine, then primed a grenade and pushed it through the crack.

"Go!" John said, and broke into a sprint, heading down the walkway. As they moved, they came upon another door just like the last one. But this time they weren't trying to sneak around. Kelly instead approached the door, lit both her Omni-Blades, and began cutting into the door with furious but focused precision. John turned around and got to one knee, taking aim down the walkway towards a blocked door that was starting to glow.

"Ap. Sustained Full Auto." John commanded as he opened fire through the now melting doorway. His and Fred's armor piercing rounds punched through the now-compromised doorway. They both continued to fire for a solid half a minute, keeping up a withering suppressive fire. A quick glance at his HUD confirmed that they weren't even a quarter of the way through their ammo blocks. He kept a careful eye on the heat gauge, lowering his rate of fire just enough that the weapon wouldn't overheat.

There was a hissing behind him, and he slowly stood up, backpedalling as he continued firing. He stopped firing, then held up a hand to signal the rest to do so as well.

The Covenant charged through the broken doorway, energy sword lit and plasma rifles firing ahead of them. John waited until enough had gotten through the doorway, and then detonated the charges. The Covenant screamed in surprise as the end of the walkway detached and swung towards the building opposite it. There was a loud metallic slam as the walkway slammed into the building, with the Elites tumbling down the length, before flying out the other end and towards the ground far below them.

Blue team turned around and continued towards their target. After exitting the walkway, John could immediately feel the incredible heat of the new was so warm, that without his Mjolnir, he'd most likely not survive for very long. This was without a doubt the place the Covenant processed the Magma for their warships. It was an oppressive feeling, that reminded John he was entering what could easily be a nexus of Covenant heavy industry. A monument to the power of their enemy.

The Covenant they encountered uniformly broke ranks and ran upon seeing them. They were all wearing barely any armor, and quite a few of the Grunts and Jackals didn't look very physically fit. The prospect of killing what could essentially be Covenant power plant operators gave John an awkward twist in his stomach, but he didn't hesitate when opening fire. Blue team moved with brutal precision, gunning down anyone and anything that moved.

An encrypted radio broadcast went out across the channels reserved for Coalition Special Forces. "Anti-Orbital defenses compromised by Asari and SPECTER operatives. "

If they were transmitting, then it meant that any hope for stealth of subterfuge had been lost already. That might make an exfiltration more difficult. John advanced nevertheless. The only thing that mattered was destroying the entire Covenant city and everything in it. Extraction was a secondary objective.

They entered a large room that almost hummed with power. It was at a crossroad between multiple different hallways, each of them marked with a different color, and with wildly differing symbols on the signs that marked them. As John scrossed, he noticed that the ground almost hummed with rhythmic pumps. He glanced around, noticing the other Spartans had felt it as well.

Kelly knelt down and put a hand on the floor, feeling the vibrations through her armor. John didn't even need to think. He instinctively took up a defensive position around Kelly. Whatever she was doing, it had to be important. Kelly glanced up. "I think we're approaching what must be a pump. The pulses we're feeling have to be the releases of magma from the caldera of the supervolcano, before whatever mechanism the Covenant uses to control the outflow kicks in."

"That sounds unstable." John asked. "Seems not even the Covenant can fully contain this much tectonic force." The thought reassured John. The Covenant were not infallible. "We should block the Magma. The pressure should build up until the Volcano erupts and destroys all of this."

"You won't get any argument from me." Kelly said, getting up and readying her shotgun.

John moved in the direction of the pumping rhythm.

Linda screamed in pain as a spear erupted from her chest.

A tall slender figure in form-fitting purple with an arm surrounded by a blue shield of solid light was standing behind the Spartan, violently ripping its energy spear out of Linda's back. She fell forward, her back smoking and limbs twitching.  
John immediately switched his aim to the attacker and opened fire. Hitting him in the side with a burst of high explosive rounds. Golden shields lit around the attacker, and held against the onslaught. It moved its shield as it moved, keeping it perfectly centered upon John's gunfire.

John barely had enough time to shift his aim, before the figure darted forward too fast for the eye to follow and thrust for his chest. With one hand, he slapped the spear aside with the butt of his rifle, then pulled out his combat knife from his belt, flipped it into a reverse grip with one fluid motion and thrust for the attacker's chest. The attacker raised its shield, and John's knife bounced off harmlessly. The shield was slammed into John's face, and he recoiled, head slammed backward by the force of the blow. A fiery hot feeling spread across his chest as the attacker slashed the side of its shield across John's chest, cutting a deep and bloody gash through his Mjolnir armor, then stabbing for John's chest with the spear. He managed to avoid a thrust to the heart, but the spear punched into his shoulder

John lunged forward and slammed his forehead into the attacker's skull. There was a satisfying crunch, and the attacker went limp and collapsed onto the floor, twitching as its energy spear shut off automatically. He pulled out the Carnifex Samara had gifted him, and took aim at the fallen attacker, shooting it through the head.

A bolt of plasma hit the minute hole in his Mjolnir armor, and John _screamed _in agony as the plasma burned through his torso. He stumbled back, covering the hole with his left arm, laying down suppressive fire with the Carnifex in the direction the plasma had come from. He went down, leaning against a wall as he fired. His bio-tracker was going wild. The plasma damage had almost touched his heart.

John glared at the direction it had come from, noting one attacker running across the ceiling, while another on the wall, firing red plasma rifles. John opened fire. The golden shields of the attacker on the ceilling flared the first four shots, but then as the attacker went for cover, John switched to his Omni-tooled other hand and fired an incineration blast at it. The attacker was set on fire, stumbled and rolled across the ground, then fell into a heap. The wall-runner aimed at John, when a massive spike erupted from Kelly's shotgun and ripped its arm clean off.

Fred was on the back foot, avoiding a pair of knives from another of the attackers. Fred had ignited both his omni-tools, forming them into small bucklers with which he swatted aside the attacker's quick blows. Suddenly it's shield extended and wrapped around Fred's right arm. The attacker put a foot behind Fred's right leg, and pulled. Nearly throwing the Spartan onto his back. The attacker drew a short wicked energy dagger with its right hand, and began stabbing into Fred's chest with wild abandon. Fred twisted and spasmed at the brutal onslaught, then turned his left gauntlet into an omni-fist, and struck the attacker in the chest, punching clean through. The attacker was unperturbed however, flipped the blade into an icepick grip, and punched for Fred's head. The blade cut through Fred's helmet and out the top, cutting through his eyes in a single stroke. Fred stumbled backwards, clutching his face.

Kelly opened fire upon the remaining. The attacker sidestepped the shot, then returned fire upon Kelly before she could fire a second volley. The red bolts of plasma impacted her barriers, broke through them, then splattered superheated plasma across her chest. A bolt hit Kelly's shotgun, melting it in her hand. John concentrated fire upon this attacker, his rounds lighting up golden energy shielding, before popping them with a satisfying blast of static.

The attacker shifted his aim, and shot John in the wrist, blowing off his hand. He howled in pain. This distraction let Kelly get close, and she put her pistol against the chest of the attacker and opened fire at close range. The rounds punched through its armor, but the attacker punched Kelly in the throat with the side of his shield. Kelly dropped the attacker in shock, then brought both her hands together on its head, crushing it between her open palsm. She backed off, clutching her profusely bleeding throat, before collapsing.

John's wounds hurt too much for him to cry out. But a dark cold grip seized his heart as Kelly fell. He glanced over at Fred scrambling around blindly, and Linda lying on the ground, her legs twitching. It was like a living nightmare.

John opened the emergency channel. "Code: Xerxes. Spartan Equivalents engaged. Blue team down." He gripped the Carnifex tightly and took aim down the hallway the attackers had come from.


	68. Chapter 68

**Target Alpha. Supervolcano. Inner power plant.**

"Blue-Two. Are you there?" John-117 asked as his vision started to blur. His breathing was heavy, and he didn't know how long he could go on. His chest wound was debilitating, no matter how much Bio-foam he used on his wounds. Every breath he took was more painfull than the last, and he was starting to feel drowsy. "Blue-Two. Confirm." John ordered. Fred was still slumped against the wall, unmoving, his armor filled with two dozen deep stab wounds, and the ground before him covered with blood.

John tried to crawl towards his comrade. Fred had been conscious only moments before. John couldn't lose him as well as Linda and Kelly. There was an unknown emotion nagging at John as he looked at the fallen Spartans of Blue Team. Pain shot through his chest as the plasma-scorched wound on his chest nearly tore itself open again. John broke his usually stoic silence with a pained groan. He kept crawling, scrambling with his legs to get back onto his feet. He couldn't get a solid grip, and each time he exerted himself too much, the pain in his chest would throw him back onto the cold hard floor.

Kelly's throat had been shot full of Biofoam, but there had been no movement or signs of life from her since she'd fallen. She and Linda now lay next to each other, pushed into an alcove John could guard more easily. Linda had gone into shock, but still had some signs of life. He had used the last of Blue Team's biofoam to fill the gaping hole in her chest.

John had gotten halfway over to Fred when he collapsed again, his breathing ragged, coughing up blood and pieces of his lungs. John overrode the safeties of his Mjolnir, and commanded it to move forward. The armor obeyed his commands and began to crawl forward, ignoring the protestations of John's chest. It felt like he was going to rip open his chest wound, but he persisted, driven by the need to provide medical aid to his fellow Spartan.

Just as he was about to reach Fred, the worst pain he'd ever felt in his life shot out of his chest. His arms went limp inside his armor, and his breathing stopped. John coughed and wheezed as his lungs filled with his own blood. The inside of his helmet started to fill with blood as he coughed against the inside of his visor. But his armor kept moving according to the mental commands, dragging John along with it.

He took heavy breaths until the pain faded away, he regained control over his heartbeat, and he began to move again. Each movement felt like pure agony, but he made it in the end, moving up next to Fred and sitting down next to him. He activated a diagnostic program for his Omni-tool and began to look Fred over for any wounds or damage that he might have missed.

Much to his chagrin, there was nothing. Fred had gone into shock, even with his Mjolnir armor doing everything it could to keep him alive.

John leaned against the wall next to Fred and began to sit down. His chest was getting worse by the second, and he had trouble breathing. All he could do was wait and hope for rescue.

**Landing Zone Gamma.  
Four Hundred Kilomets North-east of Target Alpha. (The Supervolcano)**

"Incoming!" Nialla yelled as she tackled the Orbital Drop Shock Trooper aside with her jetpack. They tumbled forward into a large crater, rolling into it as a plasma mortar hit just beyond the lip of the crater. Turning a dozen men into charred husks surrounding a smoky black crater.

The Coalition had only barely begun to land its advance forces, and they had already come under a horrendous bombardment that was throwing their plans into disarray. She'd lost her squad during the drop, and was just trying to avoid getting killed in the plasma bombardment while the BATTLENET was established.

She glanced at the ODST, noting he had a gash in his armor that was letting the noxious atmosphere inside. "Your armor is compromised. Is your O2 still functional?" She asked the black-armored man. While Chi Rho's air pressure was tolerable for most carbon-based life, it consisted of what felt like naught but methane, sulfur, carbon dioxide, microscopic slivers of glass, and just enough oxygen to make death exceedingly slow. The ODST gave her a thumbs-up, and she pulled him to his feet. Patting the dust off his shoulders, and sending him on his way.

Crashed Turian transports containing vehicles and resupply pods lay scattered across the broken glass terrain. Nialla glanced around in a haze, still trying to find where the rest of her squad had dropped. She glanced over her shoulder, at the landing zone they'd ostensibly been sent to secure just a kilometer downhill. Dozens of dropships, and small shuttles were landing down one after the other, each of them dropping its cargo ramps to disgorge a tide of men and material which immediately got to work fortifying the landing zone.

Nialla took aim with her Phaeston in the direction her VI told her the BATTLENET had detected oncoming Covenant and immediately laid down suppressive fire. Her second burst caught a jackal wearing a mask in the throat, taking off its head. She zoomed in with her visor, noting that the enemy had appeared from what looked like a cave.

A line of fifteen automated human tank depots had been dropped from orbit and were already busy churning out tanks from packaged sets of components. Large man-sized components were lifted by mechanical arms, welded, drilled, and riveted, and then pushed off the assembly line and immediately boarded by their crews. Every possible measure to save space and get as many forces to the surface as possible were being taken. Each depot had ten tanks worth of tracks, hulls, and turrets, which they quickly assembled, after which the empty buildings were quickly being repurposed as repair shops. The engines of the parked spaceships threw up clouds of dust and glass as they waited for a gap in the incoming ships to let them run the gauntlet back up into orbit. Around the impromptu spaceport, what looked from the distance like a small city of prefabricated structures were rising up all around them.

There were dozens of small tank formations with the initial drop, all of them moving out in small groups of three or four, heading out in all directions to skirmish with the oncoming Covenant forces. They, in all likelihood, would not last for very long against a Covenant armored assault, but that wasn't their purpose. They were here just to buy time for the actual invasion force for get down to the planet.

The airwaves were thick with hundreds of ongoing conversations, orders, sitreps, and intelligence briefings as the landing forces rushed to deploy themselves before the Covenant could properly counter them. They almost looked like an uncoordinated mass, with just constant commands from their VI's and the BATTLENET telling them where to go. But it was an organized chaos. Squads converged upon their rendezvous points, while the order of battle was revamped by strategic AI at a moment's notice. The UNSC had insisted that the Turians use Smart AI to coordinate the mixed species BATTLENET, and in the end, the Hierarchy had conceded in exchange for a right to veto AI assigned to the Turian forces. Nialla was happy she didn't have to meet any of the smart AI the Turian generals had to use. She hated the damn things.

Nialla felt a knot of tension in her gut as she thought about all the soldiers who were likely to get shot down as their transports attempted to disgorge troops upon Chi Rho. The Coalition was making do with woefully inadequate bulk troop transports. There were just too many troops that needed to get to the surface, and not enough specialized landing ships. She continued towards where the BATTLENET told her the rest of her Squad was. She couldn't change the course of the battle, only fight it. That was something she was happy about.

"Sergeant Nialla. Have you seen the others?" She heard Pallonis call out to her.

The recently demoted general slid into cover next to Nialla, his Armiger armor still fresh and devoid of any nicks or scratches. The General of what had once been the 13th Palavan Drop Regiment had bumped himself down to a basic Armiger Havoc soldier to atone for his failure on Alluvion. "We're half a kilometer to the west. I came to get you. Yeltis is advancing towards the objective." As he spoke, a navigation marker appeared on Nialla's HUD. She nodded at him.

"then let's go. Remember to not skyline yourself, Pallonis." She took a running start, then jumped into the air, her armor's jets firing up and launching her forwards as she skimmed the ground. She flew high enough to not accidentally hit any fellow soldiers, but not so high as to risk skylining herself. Carbine rounds shot past her or bounced off her barriers, while plasma fire not aimed at her, splashed across her barriers multiple times. Her barriers came close to dropping, but held just long enough to recycle. She whirled around, flying with her feet facing towards the Covenant, so as to produce the smallest possible target for them to hit.

Nialla saw her squad racing across the ground on their packs, and headed towards them, angling to land in front of them. She tucked in and shut off her pack just as she hit the ground, rolling forward easily and hopping back onto her feet with a puff from her pack. A quick braking with her boot stopped her, and she re-ignited her pack, now leading the formation. Ravager squad gave her nary a glance, instead professionally filing into position behind her. Command over the local tactical network was transferred to her without

"Status report. My BATTLENET VI is still updating" She commanded over SQUADCOM, guiding the squad behind her up the large Hill that her BATTLENET marked as their destination. The TACMAP showed large Human formations having crossed the hill already and digging in at the base. She zoomed out with a mental command and noted that it was directly in the way of the Covenant and the landing zones. It would be important to hold the hill, lest the Covenant destroy the landing zone.

"The Anti-Air tower we were going to hit was never finished. But the Covenant resistance is heavier than we expected." Corporal Yeltis said. "The Covenant are beginning to get too close to comfort to the LZ. Snipers and artillery are taking a toll on us. Orbital surveillance reports- Scatter!" He yelled as a plasma mortar arced overhead and slammed down at what had been the center of their formation mere moments before.

Kelnare swerved far aside and whirled around, before she got control over her pack again. "Son of a bitch!" She yelled. "Flyboys are slacking if they're already shelling the base!" She said, clutching her shotgun tightly. "You were saying?" She asked Yeltis.

"They were ready for us and started hitting us the moment we hit the dirt." Yeltis growled. "We lost so many officers that the BATTLENET lost half its strategic cloud-computing capacity, and it redistribute itself across the surviving officers''

Upon hearing this, Nialla opened her tactical map with a thought, and examined the state of the frontline. She immediately noticed that a regiment of ODST's were dug in at the base of the slope, and were marked as engaged in hand to hand combat. Then a message lit up on her HUD. "_**Ravager Squad Reassigned to Cross-Drop-Battalion.**_"

Well that made things nice and simple.

"Prepare to jump and to engage the enemy in CQC." Shotguns were drawn, Omni-blades were lit, and kinetic barriers cycled. Ravager squad closed in upon the enemy, then the moment the first Covenant weapons fire hit near them, Nialla yelled. "Death from above!" and boosted herself up into the sky, followed closely by her squad, which spread out into a wide formation.

From high up in the sky, Nialla had a good look at just what had happened to this former Human world. There was almost nothing but blackened glass as far as the eye could see, all except for a single massive city in the distance. The Assembly Yard was enormous, and put most Turian planetary industrial centers to shame in terms of opulence and defensive weaponry. Each skyscraper glowed ominously with the unmistakable tint of Covenant plasma lines, which made the city almost look like a massive living entity made from purple metal, with veins of plasma running all across its surface. From it marched what looked like an ocean of purple and blue, which was advancing towards the landing zones at full speed. From dozens of kilometers away, they already began firing their Wraith mortars, sending streams of plasma bolts towards the landing zones..

Nialla homed in on the ODST's she'd rushed to assist, flying towards them as fast as her armor would allow. Her strategic map was quickly starting to fill in as more processing power became available to the BATTLENET, and its capacities kept increasing. Tens of thousands of soldiers were fighting across a stretch of front several dozen kilometers wide, and multiple deep. The fighting was fluid, and composed mainly of pockets that went back and forth as the Coalition aggressively pushed the Covenant away from the landing zone, or was encircled by a Covenant counterattack and had to fight its way out. The ODST's had taken over a formation of large glass shards that protruded from the ground, and were using them as cover from the Covenant. The ground before the ODST's was littered with dead Grunts. Hundreds of them spread across wide piles which the Covenant was using for cover as they advanced.

The BATTLENET highlighted the squads of Brutes that were brandishing rifles that shot out molten spikes, and holding their dreaded Gravity Hammers, who were rushing across the open at a full sprint. They crashed into the ODST's and immediately began laying into them with their weapons. Bodies went flying, and IFF trackers began going dark one after the other. Grenades went off, Omni-blades were lit, and shotguns roared as the ODST' fought to repel the charge. A Brute in ornate Golden armor, and wielding a massive hammer charged right into the fray, shrugging off the fire from half a dozen ODST's as it turned men and women into red smears across the glassy ground. Nialla saw its shields flicker and nearly glow from the fully automatic blasts from one of the fallen ODST's shotguns. Nialla flew in for the kill, lighting her omni-blade and pulling back her arm to time the strike with a final thrust of her pack.

There was a loud meaty crunch as a heavily-armored Turian cyborg flew into a Brute at a hundred kilometers an hour and rammed an omni-blade into its skull. The creature went down as a bloody heap, slain instantly. She pulled out her pistol with a free hand and opened fire at the Covenant. Her shots impacted the unshielded chest of another Brute, causing it to scream in pain, only to quickly be silenced by the retort of Yeltis's sniper rifle.

The rest of her squad slammed down around her, immediately opening fire into the brutal melee. Shields flared and crackled, armor was ripped apart, and flesh tore open from the sustained firepower. Suddenly thrown at the Brutes. They wavered for but a moment, and the ODST's renewed their attacks, taking down several Brutes with shotgun blasts and Omni-Blade thrusts.

Pallonis rushed forward and lit his omni-bayonet, firing at the most heavily armored of the Brutes as he moved. He cut half its hand off with a precise slash, then maneuvered the barrel of his rifle towards the Brute's chest and opened fire. The Brute roared as blood spurted from its back from an armor-piercing round passing through. The Brute dropped its weapon and punched Pallonis with enough force to send him flying, only for the Turian to engage his jets and re-assert his footing. The Brute slammed into him, grabbing him tightly around the waist with enough force to begin crushing the former General's armor. Pallonis pulled back his right arm and lit his omni-blade, then stabbed it upwards into the Brute's skull. The Brute, however, refused to die, and knocked Pallonis down with a headbutt, then began to pound its fists into Pallonis's chest, denting it. A woman in black armor rushed forward, holding something in her right hand. She punched it into a wound in the Brute's back with a blur of blue power. Then grabbed the Brute in a biotic field, and threw it aside as the grenade detonated inside.

The Asari reached out for the direction the Brutes advanced, and raised a barrier before her. The ODST's which had remained behind cover now stood up, and opened fire through the barrier. The ODST's shotguns roared mightily, blowing off limbs or pulping brute chests. Nialla noted that they were Batarial AT-12 shotguns. However, each of them looked different from the other. Some had modified sights, others had changes to the grip or barrel, while others had been noticeably remodeled to look more "human." The man marked by her HUD as a "Sergeant Edward Buck" was standing atop a dead Brute Chieftain, holding its Gravity Hammer. He rushed forward and brought it down on a Brute with a spike rifle that was drawing a bead on a squadmate, resulting in a shower of gore.

"Troopers. We're not taking one step back!" The ODST yelled, then rammed the blade at the base of the Gravity Hammer into the ground. Another Asari appeared inside a pack of Brutes in a blast of blue energy. Shifting energy fields tore through armor and flesh, vaporizing the Brute standing where she'd appeared, and wounding the surrounding ones. The Commando's blade lashed out, the biotic field around the blade cutting wide gashes through the flesh of her opponents, as she struck out with a combination of biotic infused martial arts, and precise cuts and thrusts of her blade.

Nialla pulled Pallonis up from the ground. "Did you not get the briefing?! Don't engage a brute in close quarters unless you have to!" She scolded as she picked up his fallen weapon and shoved it into his hands. "With me!" she yelled for those around her to hear. She pushed forward, trying to drive the Brutes away before the next wave hit.

From the hill behind them, squads of Turians in black armor opened fire down the hills with Machine Guns set into the glass, firing into the Brutes from multiple directions and catching them in a deadly crossfire that finally took the wind out of their charge, The Brutes began to falter and slowly back off in the face of determined resistance.

Nialla whirled around as a spray of spikes slammed into her barriers, and gunned the attacker down with a stream of incendiary rounds. The brute roared and charged forward, not seeming to notice its burning hide. Kelnara slammed into the side of the Brute with a blast from her thrusters, sending it sprawling. She quickly put the barrel against the nape of the Brute's neck and fired. Kelnara offered Nialla a quick fistbump, which Nialla promptly ignored. Nialla moved up next to the ODST leader, continuing to fire into the attacking Brutes. What had minutes before been a well defensible formation of rocks and glass, was quickly turning into a charnel house as the Covenant attack intensified. The parched ground eagerly drank up the blood of the fallen, turning into a sucking black and red mire.

A drop pod slammed into the ground. Quickly followed by another, and another, and another. Dozens more ODST's piled out of their pods and sprung into motion. Nialla's augmented senses noted the flood of hand signals, quick terse commands, and point to point transmissions shared by the human soldiers as the new arrivals began to fortify their position. The first wave of ODST's were already gathering the tags of the fallen, restocking their supplies, and refilling their air tanks.

A Covenant Seraph slammed into the ground just fifty meters from the fight, detonating and sending out a spray of shrapnel that spattered across Biotic barriers. One of the Asari was knocked off her feet by a larger chunk, and promptly began venting her frustrations with an angry tirade of crude vocabulary and curse words. An ODST medic ran up to the Asari, but ignored her when seeing she wasn't wounded.

Nialla offered a hand to the Commando, and pulled her up to her feet. "New unit?" Nialla asked while superheated spiker rounds flew overhead. She was glancing at what looked like a mixed insignia showing a Human, Turian, and an Asari skull stacked on top of each other with a sword stuck through them.

"First Cross-Drop Battalion. I don't think we officially exist yet." The Asari said, raising a hand that stopped a metal spike in place before it embedded itself in her head. She balled the fist, pulling the spike in closer, then punched forward, throwing it like a spear of blue fire through the large boulder its shooter had been hiding behind. The spike went straight through the rock, followed by a painful roar. "Sisters. Cover. Now!" The Asari commanded, and her Commando sisters began using their biotic powers to rip deep holes into the ground, stacking Brute bodies for cover, or pulling down some of the larger rocks and laying them on their sides.

Nialla looked up for the first time in the fight and saw a scene of carnage. There were no fighters or bombers to be seen, instead there were nothing but streams of missiles, mass accelerator rounds, and plasma projectiles flying back and forth as aerial forces duelling beyond visual range. It looked like nothing less, than the sky being on fire.

Then the ground started to rumble. In the distance, a shape rose from beneath the surface, and then another, and another. Large mounds of sand and glass broke apart to reveal the Scarabs that had been hidden beneath them. Dozens of Scarabs were rising from beneath the sands, their glowing green eyes lighting up and aiming towards the approaching ships, catching them dead-to-rights.

Something slammed into the lead Scarab and knocked its head back, causing the shot to go wild. This was quickly followed by another impact that blew off one of its legs, and then another, almost tripping the Scarab over before it stabilized itself.

The Scarabs adjusted their aim, turning their guns towards where the projectiles had come from, when another volley of railgun rounds hit them, tearing off legs or digging deep into nanolaminate armor. A formation of UNSC Cobra tanks with double-barreled railguns had crested the hill, and opened fire immediately as they thundered into range. Next came the Grizzly Tanks, their cannons roaring, and each shell finding its mark in the armored hide of a Scarab, or blowing apart a Wraith tank in a single shot.

The Covenant opened fire at the new arrivals, and enough plasma to melt cities was fired at the largest collection of tanks Nialla had ever seen which stretched almost as far as she could see. UNSC Grizzly tanks were leading Scorpion and Cobra tanks advanced in wide formations, their combined firepower bringing the Scarab advance to a halt, which had forgotten about the incoming dropships and instead engaged the heavy armor with wide sweeps of their plasma cannons that melted their way through tank armor as if it were butter.

Heavy Kodiak artillery rounds arced overhead and slammed down on formations of Covenant infantry, while a flight of Sparrowhawks fired their missiles and lasers from extreme ranges. A flight of AC-220 vultures dove in from orbit, their two twin autocannons churning up the earth and ripping apart the armored hides of the Covenant Scarabs. The Scarabs returned fire, having completely forgotten about the soft soldiers before them. Flights of banshees and Seraph fighters launched, to be met by just as many UNSC Longsword fighters.

"I didn't even know we had so many Grizzly tanks left." Buck muttered as a second wave of tanks emerged from the landing zones.

Nialla laughed, and pointed at Buck. "Its good to see you used the time we bought you properly. This is fuckin beautiful!"

Turian Tanks and APC's drove out of the hangar bays of descending ships, igniting their thrusters and slowing themselves down before they crashed into the ground. A cheer went up through the drop soldiers as wave after wave of grav-chute, dropships, and tanks began to either descend from orbit or drive up from the landing zone.

The Covenant armor roared to life and charged forward to meet the Coalition. Their soldiery screaming over speakers or beneath breathing masks. The real ground battle of Chi Rho was beginning.

-  
**Target Alpha. Supervolcano. Inner power plant.**

A loud bang woke John. He strained to open his eyes, seeing an Elite standing before him with an energy sword drawn. It dropped to the side, a neat hole in its head. He had trouble making out what happened, when he noticed someone else standing over him. He slowly looked at who it was.

He thought he was hallucinating when he saw Samara kneeling before him, her armored faceplate covered with large splatters of Elite blood. She was saying something that John couldn't properly make out. She turned around and yelled something to someone he couldn't see. An Asari with the markings of a Medic looked him over, distress plain on her face, shaking her head and waving her Omni-tool over his body. "Stay with me. Your heart is failing. I need to insert a quick fix." The Asari fabricated a small round device with short sharp spikes on it, with her omni-tool, and thrust it into the wound on John's chest, directly onto his heart.

A squad of Asari in black armor was laying down covering fire in the direction of the bridge Blue Team had destroyed. John's hearing was starting to return. "Justicar Samara. I am losing whole squads to those freaks!" One of the Asari yelled. Firing fully automatically. "Make the call. Can we get them out or not!?"

She didn't have a chance to react. John saw a Hoplite charge through the firepower the Asari had thrown at it, with its hardlight shield, and moving so quickly John could barely see it, ramming the rip of an energy spear through the neck of the Asari. The Hoplit whirled around, using the blades on both sides of the staff, cutting through every Commando holding the hallway in a single movement that mortally wounded each of them. It glanced over at Samara and rushed towards the Justicar.

Samara reached out for the Hoplite, surrounding it with a field of biotic energy, the attacker slowed down, but kept advancing. Samara groaned in exertion as she aimed both hands at the attacker, trying to throw it back. The Hoplite was thrown back , but flipped around in the air and charged again, firing a plasma pistol at Samara that splashed against her barriers. Samara's biotic fields seemed to have trouble properly forming around the Hoplite.

Samara rushed forward in a blur of blue light, drawing her Commando sword and nearly beheading the Hoplite before it raised its weapon to block the attack.

The Justicar and Hoplite clashed so fast and so quickly that it looked like a roaring ball of blue energy around the two of them. The Justicar managed to cut the energy spear in half, but failed to land a followup before the Hoplite drew a backup energy sword. The Hoplite unleashed a flurry of blows with its energy sword and the sharpened sides of its shield.

Samara backed off, her movements sped up by her biotic powers as she seemed to almost dance her way out of each of the Hoplite's strikes. But the Justicar was slowing down, and her movement growing sloppier. Suddenly the Hoplite successfully fainted Samara and cut her across the chest, sending her sprawling backwards. The Hoplite leaped forward to deliver a killing blow.

When Samara grabbed both its weapons with her hands. A biotic field encased Samara's hand as she grabbed the Energy sword by the blade and the Hoplite's shield arm around its wrists. The Asari slowly rose to her feet, forcing the struggling hoplite down to its knees.

_She pulled._

The Hoplite's arms were ripped free. And before it could make a sound, Samara rammed the Hoplite's energy sword through its head.

Samara backed off, turning towards the Asari Medic, and the Commandos holding the other entrances. John slowly turned to look at what Samara was looking at. The hallway leading to the reactor was a storm of blue biotic explosions and a frantic melee as other Commandos finished off another of the Hoplites and its Elite escorts. More than a dozen Commandos lay spread through the corridor, with only two Hoplites and their Elite escorts to show for it. Samara looked tired and exhausted, and she had a hand across her armor's chest. She straightened up and yelled. "Serrice Guard. Gather the wounded and evacuate immediately. Nihlus has secured an escape craft." Samara began to move, moving with fluid grace as she led her Commandos away.

John felt a glow surround his body as one of the Asari medics lifted him up. The pain in his chest was unbearable, but he slowly forced himself to his feet, much to the surprise of the Medic. "Get the others." He ordered sternly and forced himself to run alongside Samara. He avoided the levitating members of Blue Team, and focused on the task at hand. The pain was incredible, but he forced himself through it. He wouldn't sit this out. "Sitrep." He said.

Samara looked surprised for but a moment, but then her normally aloof persona re-asserted itself. She looked worried. "Badly. The last transmission we received was that Elites with red blades were hunting the Spartans deployed to the other Assembly Yards. We lost all contact with everyone deployed to target Beta and Epsilon, while only Gamma managed to complete their mission." She grit her teeth in pain. "Nihlus and the Specters managed to steal a dropship and are hiding it nearby."

"What about the objective? Is there another strike force coming?" He asked.

_If we're evacuating. What will stop the Covenant forces from sallying out and attacking other landing zones?_

"It's scrapped. We can't beat these things." Samara showed a tiny hint of desperation in her speech. "This new threat slaughtered every other Special Forces deployment except for Nihlus and a handful of Blackwatch agents. We'll head into the open, board their dropship, and then fly away before the Covenant get their anti-air working again, or we meet more of these things."

John took the realization in. He almost had difficulty believing it, but it was right in front of him. As hard as he tried, he couldn't think of a way they might still accomplish their mission. But there was nothing they could do. The Covenant had held the Assembly Yard, and forced the Coalition to retreat.

The Spartans had been defeated, and many good soldiers would die because of it.


	69. Chapter 69

**1900, December 7th, 2542.  
CIC Bridge, UNSC **_**Trafalgar, Ectanus 45 system.**_

Cole slowly crossed his hands as the reports from the ground kept coming in. The reports straddled that infuriating line between an outright disaster and a successful deployment. For every successful landing, another was up to its neck in its own blood and required precious reinforcements to secure.

The battle was starting to slow down for the moment as the Covenant fleet continued to consolidate and pull back across the system. The Coalition outnumbered the Covenant, and the Covenant fleet was getting stretched thinner and thinner by the minute as it attempted to fight the Coalition across the system. Cole ran through every option he could, and he was reasonably certain that he could win the battle in orbit.

He couldn't say the same for the ground battle. While none of the landings had been a failure, not a single one of them was as successful as the strategists had planned for. A quarter of all the drop-certified forces of the Coalition had been wounded or killed so far in the gruesome meatgrinder on the ground. And they had managed to take out many of the Covenant anti-orbital weapons.

But they had held the line. And that had allowed for the millions of Coalition soldiers that had been mustered for this battle to hit the ground behind them safely. Within an hour of landing, the battle on the ground had turned into the largest and bloodiest battle in human history. Perhaps even the bloodiest day in human history itself. The numbers that Cole caught his officers relaying back and forth between the ships providing orbital fire support, escort missions for transport ships, and the Generals aboard the troopships, were mind-boggling. A million humans had died on the surface of Chi Rho in the first hour, from a mixture of dropships being shot down and the close-quarters fighting that was developing in the outskirts of the Assembly Yards.

Cole continued to look at the strategic screen as the battle unfolded around him. There was little else to do, for now, other than sit back and wait for something important enough to happen, which required his personal intervention. He twiddled his thumbs, awkwardly paced back and forth, and impulsively kept checking his antique wristwatch. The Strategic displays continued to change slowly, confirming to him what he already knew. The Covenant fleet was pulling back behind the moon, while the Coalition ships pursued as fast as they could without breaking formation or getting too close to the anti-orbital weaponry of the Covenant.

His nerves were slowly being shot to hell and back, and he could see that his crew was starting to notice. The marines that had been chosen to guard the bridge of the _Trafalgar_ occasionally glanced at him, their body language that of overbearing concern and worry. They had seen his outburst, and not been able to keep their eyes off of him ever since. Cole hadn't cared enough to tell them to stop it. For the moment, he was just happy that other people were giving a damn about his mental state. The Bridge crew were acting in very much the same way. They sat behind their consoles and continued with their assigned tasks with the levels of training and diligence that he had chosen them for, and reinforced by constant drilling and training. They were the ones that were from the looks of things, the most disturbed by Cole's emotional outburst at the death of Karandis. Each of them almost worshipped him for his abilities and saw him as almost a paragon of naval leadership. Someone that was above emotion and concern.

He was wondering which of them would be the first to break from their position and attempt to give him a glass of water, force him to let a medic take a look at him, or just ask him to please sit down. Some small part of him was desperate for just that. A basic display of empathy or concern for him. But he knew that it was too much to ask for.

In their eyes, he wasn't a tired old man with a racing heart, shot nerves, and a growing desire to start crying and never stop. To them, he was Cole, the defender of humanity, the exemplar of the UNSC navy, and the greatest human who ever lived. And the more this continued, the more he just felt a very real desire to bite down on his pistol and kill himself. He quashed a desire to start sobbing at the loss of human life he was responsible for. He could do it in his room after the battle was over. Or he'd finally be dead. That would also be nice. He'd very much appreciate being dead over being carted around to support a dying cause.

His wife was going to show up soon. He had planned this out with her. She would arrive with her rebel fleet behind the Covenant formation, she would lead her fleet against the Covenant forced behind the moon and disrupt their formation while the UNSC fleet closed the distance to deliver a killing blow upon the Covenant fleet. They would win the battle, and she and her rebels would receive that pardon Parangosky was offering all insurrectionists. They would renew their marriage vows, he would retire alongside her to a nice home in the country, he'd shoot any reporter or ONI recruiter that tried to get him back into the action, and he'd plough her harder than the fields he wanted to start tending to.

Cole breathed in deeply, feeling the fragility of his ageing body with every breath he took, and the way his mind felt like it was mere moments from breaking apart and never coming back together. He stifled a pained sob and thought back to the task at hand.

"Dove." He said, not showing any sign of emotion in his voice. "When will _Alpha _come within line of sight of the _Verdun?_" The loss of Blue Team had nearly broken him, and only the word that they were being safely extracted by the Justicar and Spectre deployed to Target _Alpha _had stopped him from breaking down.

The holo-tank next to the strategic display lit up, showing an old man sitting at a bench, with a Dove sitting in his head. The Old man leaned forward against a cane, then started speaking through the bird on his head.

"An hour. Captain." The AI said, offering a quirky simulated smile.

He thought back to the Spartans he'd met to brief them of the mission. They had all stood before him in their fully resplendent MJOLNIR armour, ready and eager for their instructions. Or at least, that had been what he thought he read off of their voices and limited body language. They had been introduced to their missing 'kin' and they had prepared themselves for a great battle to come. Oh, how invincible they had seemed, how assured of victory he had been when seeing them.

And then this damned battle had fully kicked off. The Spartan Teams deployed to Assembly Yards Beta and Epsilon had gone silent, their last words being that they'd been engaged by Elites with red energy swords. Then the Citadel Special Forces deployed to those yards had gone quiet one after the other as well.

The reactors of these massive city-sized naval yards still burned at full power, and the anti-orbital weapons deployed in the cities were still firing up into orbit. That was six dead Spartans, on missions he had sent them on. Spartan Gold Team, and Alpha Team had been deployed to those targets respectively, and they had both gone quiet, presumed dead. That was the most Spartans lost on any individual mission launched by the UNSC, in the history of the Spartan Program. On a deployment that he had signed off on.

Only Grey team had succeeded in its mission so far, and successfully left inside a Covenant gunship. While targets Delta, Zeta, and Eta were still up in the air. Spartan casualties had been reported, but Black, Omega, and the Red Team had gone dark. The teams were working hard to fight their way out. Out of the surviving teams, three Spartans had gone down, as well as dozens of the Commandos and STG agents sent to assist them. If they would be able to win was still undecided, and the insecurity was starting to ravenously gnaw at him.

A feeling of guilt and self-loathing was wrapping itself around his heart, and digging into his chest cavity. Even if he knew that he hadn't been able to know the Covenant would deploy forces specifically tailored to hunt down Spartans. He had still been the one to send them on those missions. And he couldn't help but feel just as guilty for them, as for the crews of those ships he had sacrificed over the years. Be they those he'd sent to hold the line to allow the rest of his fleet to retreat, or the ones that had been destroyed in assaults he had ordered. Every name he could still recall was pushing down on his mind, and was crushing it like a vice.

The defeat of Blue Team, which he still could barely believe, was the greatest concern at the moment. With their failure to take out target _Alpha, _it could now freely deploy its forces across the planet, and possibly lose the Coalition the battle for _Gamma, _the nearest city. They had to be destroyed, but there weren't many options. Each ship was needed to fight the Covenant, and nothing short of capital-grade firepower would be able to crack the shields and destroy the base.

He'd immediately thought of the _Verdun, _and its overcharged Super MAC gun. It could most likely destroy the city. But that would leave the Supercarrier for the fleet to deal with. He needed the Supercarrier defeated if he wanted to win the battle, and for that he needed Verdun's one shot.

Cole sighed deeply. "Dove. Cancel the firing order for the _Verdun_. They are to wait until the Supercarrier gets into range. "

The AI nodded it's avatar and did as instructed. Shortly afterwards, the AI blinked red twice. "I am receiving protests from the ground forces led by General, Leonard Ross. He's claiming his forces won't be able to take _Gamma _if _Alpha _can attack him in the flanks."

He had expected this to happen, but there was little he could do. "Duly noted, Dove. But the battle in orbit is more important than the ground war." Cole said, forcing steel into his voice. "The ground commanders will just have to divert their reserves." For a moment, Cole was glad he was merely in command of the navy for this operation. At least if he died, it wouldn't be because someone else had to abandon him.

**2100, December 7th, 2542.  
Outskirts of Assembly Yard **_**Gamma**_**.**

Any hint of planning or organization had long ago abandoned this hellish battle.

The expansive plains of blackened glass outside of the Assembly Yard were littered with the wrecks of dozens of Covenant Scarab walkers and UNSC Vultures, far too many to count. Around the hulks of these massive war machines, vast fields of dead bodies and ruined vehicles had been strewn around, as if carelessly thrown away by some kind of godling who had thrown a temper tantrum with his toys.

Two armies, each of them trained and prepared for a battle like this, each matching the other in equipment and training, and both fighting for the complete destruction of the other, had thrown themselves against each other in a battle whose intensity would have been unimaginable for anyone involved just over a year ago. Three thousand years of military tradition and experience threw themselves against the millions of vengeful humans and their unexpected allies that had come to expel them from the human world.

Nialla leapt through the still smoking wall of the Covenant storage depot, flying into the smoke left by the incendiary grenades that had gone off mere moments before. She opened fire upon the stunned Grunts in the room, mercilessly gunning them down with precise bursts from her Phaeston rifle. She didn't give their almost-civilian esque apparel and limited arnaments a glance as she moved between the stacked plates of purple nanolaminate, gunning down any Covenant that moved. Kelnara slammed down next to her, landing atop a Grunt, and crushing its skull with a stomp from her armored boot. There were no quips, no jokes, no sarcastic remarks. Just steely Turian determination.

The sound of gunfire and explosions reached them from the ground floor, where the Human Marines were fighting their way through the motor pool and the barracks of the workers, meeting what sounded like stiff opposition equipped with plasma grenades and rifles.

Yeltis' rifle rang out, taking off the head of a Jackal that was priming a grenade, and sending its body falling down the gangway it had been standing on. The twins, Gervod and Gelnis, advanced slowly behind her. Their once-conjoined minds still worked with amazing synchronicity as they advanced behind their Sergeant. The mute Turians both sweeped the hallways to their left and right respectively, gunning down any cowering Grunts that were trying to avoid the advancing Turians. Although it was distasteful to some, the Turians were quite skilled at clearing civilian environments with lethal precision.

"For Alluvion. For the Thirteenth!" Nialla yelled to her squad to spur them on, reminding them of the humiliating defeat of the Thirteenth Pallavan Legion. Although they were Armigers, and therefore shuffled around as needed, they had all formed solid bonds with the Legion. But it was gone now, and would only be reformed after a new army of drop-certified Turians was trained up.

The thought of more Turians growing up in this war, and being thrown into this war, both filled Nialla with roaring patriotism, and growing disgust for the Covenant for forcing this fate upon the Turians. The past three months she had seen more dead and dying Turians fresh from boot camp, than she had ever wished to see her entire lifetime. Lives in their prime snuffed out as they fought for their state, and for the Hierarchy's sovereign imperative to establish peace across the galaxy.

Pallonis hovered up from behind, his rifle's barrel covered with Unggoy blood. The Omni-Bayonet was hissing ominously as the blood around it bubbled and evaporated. The former General was taking what looked like a disturbing amount of glee in hunting down the running Covenant forces. He rushed forward on his thrusters, gunning down anyone that shot back, and stabbing the ones that merely attempted to run.

Ravager approached the last uncleared room and gathered around the door for a Breach. Kelnara approached and activated her Omni-Tool. She activated a cutting torch, and stuck it into a gap in the middle of the door. There was a hissing as the plasma cut through the lock. She stood back, drew her shotgun, and loaded shredder rounds.

Nialla made a hand signal, which her armor translated and sent to the twins. She readied an incendiary grenade, then nodded. Gervod and Gelnis went to each side of the door, stuck their hands into the thin gap, and wrenched the door open into a small crack. Nialla shoved the grenade through, and the twins pushed the door closed again.

There was a loud _whoosh_ followed by screaming as the grenades detonated. The Twins tore the door open again, and Kelnara and Pallonis rushed inside. They opened fire on the burning Grunts and Jackals, their shredder-rounds ripping the burning bodies of the defenders apart. By the time Nialla had set foot inside, there were no signs of life left anywhere in the depot.

Nialla brought up her TACMAP. The Coalition was advancing across the outskirts, and pushing back the Covenant armor along the main highways. Casualties were quickly mounting, and the advance was starting to slow down. But this did little to deter the bloodlust Nialla was starting to feel. She wanted to kill Covvies, to make them pay for every single life that had been lost this day. For a moment, it felt very good to hate, even if she knew she'd be horrified by her thoughts, the next time she entered a sleep cycle.

"No survivors," she transmitted to Buck, The ODST whose squad was clearing the final floor above them. "Do you require assistance?"

"No, but thanks for asking." The human said in that snarky self-confident manner she had started to associate with ODST's and non-commissioned human officers. The way they treated everything like it was a joke, and nothing was serious. The only thing that made the attitude remotely bearable to Nialla's Turian sensibilities was their effectiveness as soldiers.

"One minute breather, everyone." She ordered her squad. She took a large "pull" of the nutrients and liquids inside the tanks built inside her abdomen, while the other soldiers sipped from the built-in dispensers in their armor. She wanted to strike up a conversation, and briefly remind herself she was still a person, and not a killing machine. But she couldn't muster up the will to do so. None of her squad seemed remotely happy or content about the situation, and she doubted any would appreciate a talk.

Suddenly a bolt of blue shot through the hallway they had just passed, then detonated somewhere else in the building. The entire structure shook, and began to crumble down. The floor cracked,

"Burn your way out!" Yeltis immediately yelled, taking aim at the nearest wall. He charged up an incendiary blast and fired it at the wall. A quick glance at the TACMAP by Nialla confirmed that this wouldn't leave them exposed when facing the Covenant, and she joined in, firing an incendiary blast, then switching to armor-piercing rounds and firing at the rapidly heating section of wall. The wall began to buckle in and sag, but held.

"Cryonic." Nialla ordered calmly, and fired a bolt of supercooled liquid at the wall, which splashed across the melting metal. There was a high pitched sizzling noise, and the wall cooled, cracking. She burst forward, her thrusters propelling her through the wall, shattering it as if it was glass.

The first thing she saw was that there were thousands of Brutes charging forward, their footsteps throwing up a cloud of dust. They burst from sewer covers, alleyways, and across the main roads. She glanced at her TACMAP, when she noticed it had suddenly gone into standby. The Covenant had deployed their jamming technology again. Her barriers flared as carbine rounds slammed into it. She cursed, and slammed herself down to the ground.

There were Marines fighting desperately to hold off the Brutes as they swarmed in from what felt like everywhere. She reached out for a fallen human, when something green and buzzing suddenly grabbed the huma and dragged him off the ground. A swarm of Drones was firing at any soldiers that tried to stand and fight, wearing them down with streams of plasma fire, or swooping down and carrying them off towards the Brutes, throwing them down in their path.

"Drones!" She yelled. She had never fought the insectoid menace before, but knew of their danger. The few Turians that had engaged them spoke in hushed words of their ferocity and sheer weight of numbers.

Her radio crackled softly. "This is First Lieutenant Anderson. I am assuming command over the First Cross-Drop-Battalion. Pull back across the highway and dig in at the foundry district. Hunter-killer teams are disabling the Covenant jamming beacons. Reinforcements are inbound!"

**2200, December 7th, 2542.  
Port Hangar bay, UNSC **_**Trafalgar.**_

John still felt his heart pounding in his chest as the hijacked Covenant dropship came to a halt inside the hangar of the UNSC _Trafalgar. _His troubles with breathing had only gotten worse. He believed he had collapsed multiple times during the escape to the stolen shuttle and had been carried by the Biotics of the Asari each time. John knew that he was starting to suffer oxygen starvation as a result of his weak and erratic heartbeat and that he had to remain calm. He did as a lifetime of training had taught him, and treated the current situation as just another fight to overcome.

The hatches of the dropship opened, and the Spartans of Blue Team were levitated out onto reinforced medical gurneys that had been specifically built to transport wounded Spartans. John saw the masked faces of the doctors and nurses that had overseen the Spartan's initial augmentations, and the MJOLNIR-certified technicians that maintained their armor. They swarmed around him, talking frantically about the wounds that Blue Team had suffered. They immediately started being pushed, presumably towards the medical bay.

John went through the battle against the Hoplites, going back and forth over how the battle had been fought. His almost perfect memory helped him to relive the fight, and imagine just how things could have gone differently.

He heard a female doctor that was running alongside the gurney holding Linda shouting into a microphone. "Spartan Zero-Five-Eight has suffered severe damage to her lower spine, rib cage, and the left lung. She is suffering from catastrophic internal bleeding, and is in a trauma-induced coma. Prepare a heart lung machine and a dialysis machine, then prepare the surgical bay to begin the reattachment of her spinal cord to the lower body."

_Linda had been struck from behind with incredible speed and force. The attacker hadn't appeared on motion trackers before it had already struck, which implied either a hitherto unknown level of sensor-spoofing and Covenant Stealth technology, or the ability to move faster than the Spartans had been able to react. _To avoid what happened to Linda, the Spartans would require improved sensor technology. He made a mental note to add this to his report.

The technicians were frantically working to take off his Mjolnir armor, foregoing standard procedures and using specialized tools to open the armor as if it was the chassis of a mangled car, cutting open priceless locks and joints without a shred of concern about the inordinate cost, all so they could try to save the Spartans inside. John felt his helmet being removed, and the kiss of the stale ship's air on his skin. It felt acceptable. A doctor flashed a light in his eyes and looked somewhat satisfied at the result, whereupon she placed an oxygen mask across his mouth.

The armor around his chest was cut in half, and peeled outways as if the technicians were trying to get into the soft interior of a lobster. Some of the Technicians and Doctors balked at what they saw, and John heard some muffled cursing. The one who looked to be in charge of the ones overseeing him, quickly began taking notes. "One One Seven has received third-degree burns to his heart, a deep cut across his chest that has nearly punctured his left lung, and the complete loss of his right hand. Blood Work indicates he is suffering from mild oxygen starvation. Prepare an emergency temporary prosthetic for the missing hand, then start flash-cloning a new heart and lung."

John examined the stump where his hand had been. It wasn't the first time a Spartan had lost a limb and needed a replacement. But Spartan bones and musculature were slow to regrow properly. If the doctors did well enough, his nerve endings would be saved, and he could receive a new biological hand in a few months. But until then, he'd receive a cybernetic replacement.

He thought about how he'd been bested, and how he could avoid it happening again. _The Hoplite that attacked me used the sides of its shield as a lethal cutting weapon. I parried its spear with the butt of my rifle, then drew a combat knife and tried to stab it. It was faster than I anticipated, and blocked the dagger, then struck me with the shield, dazing me long enough to strike me across the chest. The shield has to be treated as a separate weapon in its own right. _

"Spartan Oh Eight Seven, callsign: Kelly, has had her throat slit with a thin object of indistinguishable composition. She has suffered severe blood loss and has entered a state of brain death. Place her in cryogenic storage immediately."

Kelly had been the only Spartan able to take on the Hoplites in close quarters, matching its speed and using her raw strength to kill it in a single strike. But then it had struck her in the throat with its shield. _Kelly did not know the shield functioned as a stabbing weapon, and had not prepared for it. _

John saw Fred's Mjolnir armor removed, and caught a glimpse of the over a dozen stab wounds through it. Fred was the close quarters combat specialist of the Spartans, and was notorious for his love of knives and other stabbing weapons. He had fought the Hoplite that attacked him, and even forced it on a back foot. Only for the Hoplite to somehow extend its shield and wrap itself around Fred's hand. With his hand caught in a lock, Fred had been left open to a flurry of deep stab wounds through the chest, before having his eyes cut out.

"Spartan One Oh Four has been attacked by a long stilleto-esque energy dagger, and received thirteen stabs through the chest. His heart has been nicked, and his right lung has been punctured." There was a hiss as Fred's helmet was removed, and one of the Doctors cursed loudly. "Spartan One-Oh-Four has been cut across the face and lost both his eyes. Remaining ocular matter and the intact nature of his eye sockets make in-situ flash-cloning a possibility. Recommend starting immediately to optimize regrowth"

They finally entered a large white room filled with advanced surgical equipment, and the Spartans were quickly transferred over to large medical beds. John felt needles being inserted into his wrists, powerful restraints wrapping around his limbs. Large mechanical arms descended from the ceiling, all fitted with surgical components. One of the arms sprayed an antiseptic fluid across his chest, which burned with an almost purifying pain. John didn't fight it, recognizing it as saving him from a potential infection. An arm with an injector descended from the ceiling and was pressed against his neck. There was a brief hiss, and everything went dark.

**2300, December 7th, 2542.  
Nanolaminate Foundry, Outskirts of Assembly Yard **_**Gamma**_**.**

Nialla leaped from the dead drone towards the next, maneuvering deftly with her thrusters as she slammed the creature down towards the hard ground. It crunched beneath her weight when they hit the ground, and made a sickening Squelching noise. She fabricated her Omni-blade, and stabbed it into the creature's skull. Killing it instantly.

The human Lieutenant had managed to rally a defense around the foundry district by the cross-drop battalion. But it hadn't done much to halt the Covenant. The Coalition lines had already been pushed back half a mile around, leaving the foundry exposed and surrounded. Ravager Squad was flying around from position to position, throwing themselves into every hallway, alley, or sewer entrance that the Brutes were trying to get through. The Foundry was large, and in the middle of a sprawl of almost urban development, full of narrow alleyways, underground access paths, as well as wide open streets over which cargo vehicles could move.

Nialla felt something punch through her chest. Error reports appeared over the top right corner of her cybernetic eyes, not her helmet. She flew out of control, and slammed down at the entrance of a vehicle pool. The impact shook her to her bones. Anaesthetics were released in her bloodstream, and automatic repair systems began kicking in. A firm hand grabbed her by the collar, and began pulling her away to safety.

She looked at the source, seeing that it was First Lieutenant Anderson. The ODST's helmet was cracked, and he had a nasty cut across his side. The man was firing a shotgun with just one hand, blasting back a Brute that rushed up with a brutal looking maul. He was dragging her towards the Motor pool, inside of which several squads of ODST's were making their stand. Their overlapping fields of fire gunned down the oncoming Brutes, even as members of them started falling from pinpoint carbine fire, or the massive burning spikes of the Covenant Spikers.

Another Armiger slammed down onto a brute that Anderson had hit in the chest, thrusting the tip of an omni-bayonet into the skull of the beast. Pallonis performed a backwards flip and landed in front of Nialla, laying down suppressive fire for the wounded Turian. Nialla activated her omni-tool and shot a thick blast of Omni-gel into the wound in her chest. She pulled out her pistol, firing into the skull of a Brute that was attempting to swing the blade of its Spiker at Pallonis. The Brute recoiled and stumbled, collapsing into a heap.

"Sergeant Nialla. Are you okay?" Anderson asked as he dragged her into the motor pool, and put her behind a wall, then leaned out to face the oncoming Covenant. He pumped a nonexistent slide, looked a bit befuddled for just a moment, then opened fire again. The motor pool was rapidly being turned into a fortress. Holes punched into walls to fire out, flash-fabricated mines thrown out into the weapon, while machine guns set up crossfires.

Nialla held out a hand to be pulled up, and the human pulled her up. The man radiated a sense of calm self-assured power that was infectious. She felt safe in his presence, and perhaps a little bit excited by his voice. She squashed the thought, and nodded. "I'm good. Automatic repairs have fixed the spinal damage." Her back arched, and she had lost one of her internal oxygen tanks.

"Good. We need everyone in the fight. The counter-attack should be arriving soon to push the Covenant back again." Anderson said, only to suddenly go quiet.

"What's wrong?" She asked, a hint of panic in her voice. Had the Covenant done something to the reinforcements, or had something happen in orbit. She glanced up, expecting to see a Covenant ship charging its glassing beam. But there was nothing to see except for the massive air battle taking place overhead.

"The tank forces and mechanized infantry have been diverted to counter another Covenant attack coming to relieve the city." Anderson then paused again, holding a hand against the side of his head. His body language changed from surprise to blatant horror.

Suddenly Anderson yelled at the top of his lungs, amplifying his ""

**"Chemical weapons are being dropped on our position!" **Anderson yelled, and quickly began spraying omni-gel over his cracked armor.

Nialla almost froze up in surprise, but her body still acted by pure instinct as she followed the routine drills she'd been practicing since she was a child. Her armor was intact, and all her seals tested as positive. She turned Anderson around against his will, but he did not protest, and checked him up and down. She then felt an ODST rush over and examine her, and spray Omni-gel onto a compromised section.

"Are the Covenant gassing us?" Kelnara asked, slamming down next to Anderson. She was carrying two wounded ODST"s, one under each arm, and put them inside the Motor Pool, where ODST Medics took them from the Turian. Behind her came Yeltis and the Twins. Gelvod had a large hole in his armor that had been patched with omni-gel, while Gelnis was missing his left armor.

"We are." Anderson said. "The Batarians are dumping nerve gas across the whole city."

_FUCK. _Nialla cursed inwardly. "The four-eyed bastards are using chemical warfare on our positions!?"

Then it came. Creeping from the other side of the motor pool came an insidious green mist that quickly went across the ground. Nialla paused, quietly praying to the Spirits that her armor would hold. The gas passed over her, and wafted towards the Covenant lines, where the Brutes had been joined by large formations of Grunts and Jackals, poised to assault the Foundry and take it. Which they would have undoubtedly. The Brutes paused in the middle of their charge, and seemed to hesitate. When a shell landed in their midst, from which another cloud of gas emerged.

Then the screaming began

The Grunts and Jackals screamed, clutching at swelling throats and bleeding eyes, as they almost seemed to come apart. The flesh of the smaller Covenant species began rotting. Grunt exoskeletons started to crack and peel off, while Jackals almost seemed to fall apart as their thin joints practically disappeared as if nothing had happened.

"I think I'm gonna be sick." Buck said as he emerged from the storage depot that he and his squad had been using for cover, making gagging noises at the sight.

The Brutes charged through the gas, roaring in defiance as their eyes ran red with blood, and they collapsed in bloody coughing fits. Their spasms of agony were so violent it looked like their bones were breaking. Drones began raining from the air, slamming into the ground with brutal crunching noises. Their attacks continued but were repelled with almost pitiable ease.

The gunfire and explosions around the battlefield stopped. Then was replaced by quick double taps, as the Coalition soldiers began to put down the victims of the gas. The ODST's, Asari Commandos, and the Turian Armigers of the Cross-Drop-Battalion emerged from cover to look upon a quickly developing hellscape. Bodies lay all around their defences, but many more of the Covenant were dying a slow and lingering death.

There were blasts of flame in the distance as humanoid figures in jet black armor, wielding large flamethrowers or what looked like Harpoon rifles marched. Their armor had just a few individual marks, that of the Special Intervention Unit. The Hegemony's premiere death squads.

Their flamethrowers spat clouds of noxious acidic chemicals that melted their way through anything it touches, turning vast chunks of the Foundries into roaring infernos, as the very metal and soil seemed to catch on fire. They advanced with an almost cruel but calculating precision, their harpoon-rifles punching through the few fully armored Covenant that remained, the projectiles expanding inside their targets and ripping them apart, before retracting again for easy pickup.

Huge plumes of fire rose up in the distance as low flying gunships dropped fuel air bombs upon Covenant formation. The Covenant Assembly yard had little that could burn, but the Batarians somehow still set large chunks on fire. Nialla didn't even want to think about what kind of chemicals they were using in their flames.

"We should help them." Anderson almost seemed to mutter at the sight, and this seemed to spur the Coalition soldiers out of their stupor. They advanced in squads, sweeping their way forward. But found nothing alive.

Nialla felt sick at the sight, and was filled with an irrational desire to run from the cloud of death she was inside. Her squad passed a corner, where they came upon a Batarian mechanized formation engaging a Covenant opposite.

Batarian tanks were duelling at close range with Wraiths, while soldiers in suits emerged from armored vehicles wielding flamethrowers and their harpoon Covenant were trying to launch an armored assault, but whatever flames the Batarians were using stuck to the Wraiths as if they were made of wood. The vehicles turned into blazing torches, with crews scrambling out, only to be gunned down by the advancing Batarians. Nialla's armor indicated the air was filled with lethal levels of chlorine gas.

Brutes and Elites in full body armor were engaged in vicious close quarters combat with the Batarians, who had lit Omni-fists, blade gauntlets, and other brutal melee implements. The Batarians ripped out organs with blade gauntlets with hooks on them, dragged down Brutes with flash-fabricated chains, and laid down withering streams of automatic fire at the Covenant. Nialla's suit indicated that the rounds were a foul concoction of Caesium and Polonium, designed to tumble inside their targets.

Gunships flew overhead, while Batarian tanks rolled down the streets. They piled out of Mechanized transports, or marched up the streets. They looked eager to fight and ready to kill.

"Should- should we help them?" Kelnara asked, her shotgun shaking. She glanced at Nialla for advice.

"We… Yeah, we should." Nialla mouthed and walked over towards the body of a Brute that was still twitching. She shot it in the head, then wandered over to the next, almost in a haze. "Put them down."

**2300, December 7th, 2542.  
CIC Bridge, UNSC **_**Trafalgar, Ectanus 45 system.**_

-"Tell them to take it up with Matriarch Aethyta. She ordered the Batarians to keep their deployments a secret." Cole told Dove with every last bit of courtesy he had left. "You are in the inner city, are you not?" He cursed inwardly. He was the highest commander of the invasion at the moment.

Cole was furious. Aethyta and he had talked about keeping the Batarians as a reserve to breach the Covenant cities. But when the battle for _Gamma _had nearly been lost, she had ordered the Batarians to throw the Covenant back. But the methods they'd used had been beyond horrific. The Batarians had shown up with minimal warning, they had deployed a horrific onslaught of chemical weapons upon the Covenant forces defending the approaches to the inner city, then sent in their toughest and most brutal fighters to wipe out the remaining defenders.

They had done as ordered, but the other commanders on the ground had been surprised to say the least. The Asari and Human generals had been horrified at the sudden deployment of chemical weapons.

Sure, the UNSC had stockpiled nerve weapons. But they rarely used them as the Covenant had a history of ruthlessly hunting down caches of the weapons, or winning too quickly for any deployment to be authorized. And the mixture of Fluorine-based fuel air bombs, flamethrowers, and nerve toxins that the Batarians had dumped on the Covenant was devised with a level of cruelty that Cole could only wish human scientists weren't capable of.

Dove suddenly appeared on the screen, his holographic avatar flashing red. "Fleet Admiral. The Covenant are powering up their Slipspace engines!"

Cole almost wanted to weep at the statement. "All ships. Attack while they charge their drives! All Coalition ships, charge and attack!"

****2300, December 7th, 2542.**  
Shrine bridge, Covenant supercarrier Through Moonlight Reflection Upon This Faithfull Odyssey Do We Find Salvation From This Universe Of Sin, In Which We Have Been Shackled (abbreviation: Moonlight Reflection), low Chi Rho orbit, Ectanus 45 system.**

Thel glanced at the information he was receiving from across Chi Rho, and the Ectanus system. All the fleet positioning was displayed before him on a grand holographic map. He perused what he saw, thinking over just what his options were at the moment.

He'd lost.

Everything had gone well just moments before. The Prelates, whose deployment had remained secret even to him, had struck against the special forces deployed in the primary Assembly Yard, and successfully defended it. But they had lost half their number so far. They had died slaying the strongest group of Demons the Covenant knew off, martyring themselves for the cause. Returning with their bodies would help to appease the High Council. And from the other Yards he had received word that The Silent Shadow had claimed the skulls of Ten Spartans. They would bring these with them, Gild them, and present them to Hierarchs.

The forces of the Primary assembly yard had sallied forth towards the nearest other Assembly Yard, and seemed set to destroy the landing zone.

But then, the four-eyed aliens had suddenly hit his only successful breakout attempts with gas bombardments and fluorine-based fuel air weapons. The force emerging from the Primary Assembly Yard was in a stalemate, while the Assembly Yard it had tried to relieve was projected to fall within the day.

The Humans were deploying massive amounts of heavy war material that they hadn't done for most of the war, and it was grinding his forces down. If he had had just a few more ships and orbital defense grids, he was sure that he could have contested the landing more meaningfully and stopped the humans from landing all this equipment.

But there had just been far too many ships. Over ten thousand of the Citadel's ships were swarming the system and harassing his supply lines, while the Humans had deployed their new countermeasures and were still holding strong. The fighting had turned into a long ranged duel, even as the fleets he had sent to hide behind the planet's moon to recharge their shields had come to rejoin the main battle.

Across the system, he was being pushed back by the Salarians and the Asari, and they were threatening to envelop Chi Rho and hit it from all directions. And the Human fleet had fought with a hitherto unimaginable level of competence and fury. Without reliable plasma torpedoes, his total firepower was much diminished. The next engagement would go like the first. Both fleets would destroy a vast chunk of the other, and the Covenant would lose more of its total power with each ship lost. And as his ships grew more and more damaged, the Turians could strike again and again upon his weakened ships.

And in the event they lost, what would become of the Covenant? He could only imagine the thousands of Citadel ships heading into Covenant space, completely unopposed in any meaningful way until High Charity broke from its political stupor and managed a defense. He had also seen the reports of cloaked ships hitting his supply lines.

In his mind's eye he could imagine thousands of ships attacking across the Covenant frontier, deploying nuclear weapons across isolated worlds, hitting disorganized local defensive fleets, and cutting through the trade that was the lifeblood of the Covenant. This would lead to rebellion and insurrection across the tributary worlds. His fleets could become the core of a new fleet to defend the Western Fringes. He could press-gang more crew, set up orbital defenses, and impress civilian shipping.

He made the order. "All ground forces. We have lost this battle. And although my hearts yearn for an honorable death, doing so would be beyond selfish. We are the only fleet still active in the western fringes of the Covenant. If we are destroyed, then the heartland of our Union will be undefended. We must be the bulwark of the Western Fringes. You must make the heretics pay. Die well."

Thel said the words that might doom himself. "All ships fall back to Zhoist immediately. We are abandoning Human space."

He walked towards his command throne and sat down. "May the gods forgive me. For I just became the first Fleet Master to retreat an entire armada." The Sangheili on the ship turned to look at him. But to his surprise, there was no anger, no resentment. They looked understanding, and many even nodded slowly in agreement. These Sangheili knew true duty extended beyond the search for a glorious death, and for a brief moment, Thel was almost overcome with pride.

**2305, December 7th, 2542.  
CIC Bridge, UNSC **_**Trafalgar, Ectanus 45 system.**_

As the Covenant fleet began to turn away from Chi Rho and charge their Slipspace Drives, the Coalition fell upon them. The _Trafalgar _led the charge, its engines burning at the safety limit, its twin Super MAC guns roaring and shaking the superstructure of the ship it fired upon the rear of the Covenant fleet. Two Battlecruisers were torn apart and they were split clean through, while a volley of nuclear missiles three flights of Stormcutter escorts into nothing more than a cloud of shrapnel and debris.

But the Covenant were too far away, and threatened to escape before the UNSC could make full use of their weakened state.

Then Slipspace rifts formed in close proximity to the leaving Covenant fleet. A hundred and fifty converted civilian ships, cargo freighters with nuclear weapons, and custom built warships of designs unknown to the UNSC, jumped into the system. At their lead was a heavily modified UNSC light frigate. The UNSC _Bellicose, _Captained by the love of his life. She had answered his call after all. Cole smiled. His Wife always had a proper sense of timing.

The former Insurrectionists dived into the formation of the Covenant, firing barrages of missiles all around them at the Covenant fleet as they were transitioning into Slipspace. Engines were blown off by swarms of missiles, jury-rigged MAC guns punched through reactors and shut down Slipspace rifts in catastrophic explosions. The lead Covenant ships were unable to safely transition safely into Slipspace. Over a hundred Covenant ships were burning in the void as fifty remaining rebel ships reached the other side of the Covenant formation. Still led by the _Bellicose, _now proudly bearing battle scars along the side.

The UNSC fleet joined in the pounding, destroying eighty Covenant ships as their MAC guns caught the Covenant ships as they attempted to enter slipspace. The unshielded craft were vulnerable as they were moving to enter into Slipspace, and they suffered horrendous losses as missiles found purchase within engines, and blew them apart. Hulls were ripped and torn open by Archer Missile volleys, while Slipspace Drives shorted out from power failures and tore the ships apart as they attempted to jump.

Cole's eyes were fixed upon the largest Covenant ship that remained. The Supercarrier was starting to jump. And he had no intention of letting the ship escape. He grinned as he waited for what was to come. The Supercarrier slid into the Slipspace rift, the front half slowly disappearing through the portal.

There was a brief flash of light, and then a monstrous explosion as the rear of the Supercarrier was vaporized as _Verdun_'s overcharged Super MAC round struck true. The rear of the Supercarrier was blown apart as its reactor core was punctured, and the monumental amount of energy contained within was released. The Slipspace portal violently slammed shut in a discharge of energy that crippled two dozen of the surrounding Covenant ships.

The Turian ships dove in, their Captains eager to avenge their fallen Fleet Admiral. They flew through the Covenant formation, strafing torn hulls, or launching torpedoes into engines.

Cole sat in silence as the final rifts began closing. He glanced at the confirmed kills. The Coalition had lost half their ships in a day of hellish fighting, and there were still millions of Covenant soldiers upon the surface of Chi Rho. But the battle in space was over. Five hundred escorts, A hundred and thirty-two Battlecruisers, six Assault Carriers, and a Supercarrier. The UNSC had lost almost half its ships, with the Citadel losing nine thousand ships. The losses weighed heavily on his conscience. But they had made the Covenant pay, and would secure a bounty of Covenant technology from all the salvage they could now perform in the system.

"Fleet Admiral. The planet!" Dove suddenly yelled, bringing up an image of Chi Rho. And the massive explosions upon the surface. Every Assembly Yard had detonated their reactors simultaneously, transforming the cities into small suns that had consumed everything within hundreds of miles in a fireball. The only cities that still stood were the Supervolcano and _Gamma _which had been disabled by Grey Team_. _

That thought sent Panic through Cole's mind. Had Black, Red, or Omega team managed to exfiltrate like they had attempted, or had they also been destroyed by the Covenant's spiteful final action. What about the troops upon the surface? There had been millions of soldiers attacking the Assembly Yards.

"Dove. Casualties." Cole ordered calmly. He felt the emotions he'd been suppressing for so long begin to bubble up.

Dove didn't answer immediately. His avatar transformed into a messenger pigeon, which began flapping its wings and flying off. After a few seconds of waiting, the dove transformed back into the AI's regular avatar. The AI spoke slowly, as if it was mincing its words. "Twenty million were in the blast radii. Fifteen million UNSC. Casualties unknown." silence descended upon the bridge at the statement.

Cole nodded calmly. Then he felt a stabbing sensation in his shoulder. "I see. Well done, Dove." The Fleet Admiral saw the gazes and stares of the bridge crew as they looked at him, whereupon they awkwardly looked away and averted his gaze. They didn't want to see Cole break down like what had happened when Karandis had fallen.

Then Cole collapsed onto the deck.

"Medical to the bridge! Cole is having a heart attack!" Dove yelled, the simulated voice filled with genuine panic. The AI's avatar transformed into just the dove through which it spoke, flailing its wings around wildly. There was a flurry of motion as the Marine guards rushed over to him, turning the Fleet Admiral around, and tearing open his uniform. Cole smiled softly as he looked at the lights on the ceiling.

"Nothing to worry about. Get back to your posts. We have a war to fight." He muttered. "No time for… time for… time." He closed his eyes and let darkness take him, just as the first Medic stormed onto the bridge. He was sure it wouldn't be too bad. He would get fixed up, then right back to work.

_Just like he always did._


	70. Chapter 70

**1810 hours, December 20th, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)**

**Minister of Discovery's Private Quarters. High Charity**

Discovery was happy to be busy with his tools. He examined the inner components of the Turian rifle that one of his agents had been able to provide him with, carefully cataloguing its parts and constructions, all the while muttering to himself. He still hadn't fully figured out how the weapon managed to so precisely cut off and guide the pieces of metal it shot out, and it was starting to nag at him.

He was trying to find a way to use the Element Zero in the rifle to fire more condenses plasma bolts, or faster Subanite crystals when an alarm on his chair went off. He put his tools down and pressed the button that was beeping, bringing up a large holographic map of High Charity Discovery glanced at the projection by his antigravity throne. It was his way of keeping track of large fleet movements. Had another Covenant fleet returned from a lost battle? The map showed an overview of High Charity, its defensive fleet, but also a much more extensive fleet moving into the system. A fleet of a hundred Covenant ships had just jumped into the system.

His Throne's communicator went off, and he quickly picked up the transmission. It was the Ministress of Conversion. _"Xytan is here. Get to my ministry. Immediately._ He confirmed the message's authenticity when he read it, gritting his teeth at the incredulity of the sight. He hadn't expected so little warning.

**21:59**

**Hidden chamber, Ministry of Conversion, High Charity**

In a hidden room at the heart of the Ministry of Conversion, the conspirators had been gathered at short notice. There was a large table, a holographic projector, pens and paper for non-digital storage, and an air of extreme tension. None of the people in the room wanted to be here. But that was what happened.

Discovery looked across the table at the massive Sangheili that had been the reason for the sudden summons. It was the first time Discovery had ever seen Xytan in the flesh, and he immediately understood the amount of reverence that his troops afforded him. The Imperial Admiral looked at him, making Discovery back away.

"This isn't what we planned, Xytan." Conversion muttered angrily. "Why are you even away from your fleet? The Hierarchs will find out about your absence. And then all our heads will roll."

Xytan slid a holographic projector forward, then activated it. It showed a video of a Supercarrier breaking apart. This shut everyone up. The next image showed a massive cargo freighter being swarmed and taken out by smaller Turian and Human ships. Xytan pressed a button on his gauntlet, and the projection changed to show destroyed ships. A Covenant world under orbital bombardment.

It was helmet footage from a Kig-Yar, firing a Carbine at a human in black armour that advanced through the gunfire, and blew the Kig-Yar apart with a massive spike-throwing shotgun.

"What… where was that?" Conversion asked.

"A minor mining colony from one of the Merchant Guilds. It doesn't even have a name beyond a numerical specification." Xytan stated calmly. "A week ago, this message was sent to me by one of my agents. The Humans destroyed the ships in orbit with cloaked ships firing nuclear torpedoes. Then landed a strike force upon the planet. They hit the habitation quarters with nerve gas, then they mopped up the survivors. They took everything of value and left. Word of it should be spreading through High Charity soon."

"How many worlds is this happening on?" Discovery asked cautiously.

"Seven worlds have been raided like this. But the attacks upon traders and merchant convoys have become a daily thing out on the fringes. What remains of Thel 'Vadamee's fleet is trying to hold off the Coalition, but they're spread too thin. Zhoist will most likely fall within a month." The Imperial Admiral crossed his arms.

"Truth has had Thel 'Vadamee brought to High Charity for a trial. Just a routine examination of his actions. But he is planning to use the gathering to have himself granted unlimited power. To 'Save' the Covenant. We all know that can't be allowed to happen." Xytan said. "I have been infiltrating troops into High Charity for a while now. It wasn't difficult to arrive. We will have to execute our plan early."

Conversion grimaced. "Then, our course of action is simple. Discovery, have you got access to High Charity's security systems?"

This was the moment their plotting officially became treason. Discovery couldn't help but feel excited at the prospects. He nodded. "I have. When your forces seize the guns and control stations, I will be able to hijack the systems and slave them to my throne. We can turn the guns on any ships that try to stop Xytan's fleet from arriving."

Xytan nodded. "This is up to both of you. I can provide you with protection in the event Truth tried to seize control. But you need to rally the High Council and depose the Hierarchs. I can only provide legitimacy."

**2341**

**High Charity Council Chambers.**

Thel' Vadamee slowly stepped onto the dock stage at the centre of the Council Chamber. His ribs hurt, and his breathing was ragged. But when summoned, he had taken the fastest shuttle he could to visit High Charity, and to stand trial for his actions.

His Supercarrier had been torn in half, his fleet had been reduced to a shadow of its former glory, and he couldn't even find a glorious death holding the frontier against a human counterattack. The Supercarrier had been scuttled, and the surviving crew had left aboard the other ships in the fleet. It was a disgraceful loss.

Thel looked up at the Hierarchs as they talked amongst themselves about his failure to defend Chi Rho. They were muttering angrily to each other, occasionally glaring down at him. The High Council was split evenly, with voices shouting for his execution, others demanding he become an Arbiter, while some demanded he be forgiven and sent back into battle. He did not show any emotion as one of the Sangheili Councillors stood up and yelled.

"Fleet Admiral Thel 'Vadamee fought with everything at his disposal. He should have been provided with more ships!" The Councillor slammed a fist down onto the bannister. "Demanding punishment is ludicrous! Levy a new fleet and sent him back into battle!"

A shrill San'Shyuum yelled back. "A priceless ship ruined! He should be put to death for the destruction of the Moonlight_!_ Its relics will never be recovered."

There was a definite sense of panic in the room, as the crushing defeat of a Covenant armada was utterly unheard. None of them knew how to deal with the loss and even less on how to deal with the one who had lost the battle.

The tribute of Spartan skulls Thel had wanted to give the Council had disappeared from his ship, alongside the surviving Prelates, and the Silent Shadows. He cursed the honorless scoundrels for their attempt to strike up all the glory.

Suddenly, the door to the Council Chamber was thrown open. A massive Sangheili in golden armour strode into the room, flanked by a dozen Fleetmasters and Generals. The High Council started yelling and screaming at the sudden intrusion. The Sangheili yelled for the Honour Guard to expel the intruders, stood up, baring their chests and looking as intimidating as possible. They were utterly livid at the sudden intrusion. Then they stopped, as they saw just who was standing before them. They went silent as the Imperial Admiral continued to advance into the High Council, flanked by a pair of San'Shyuum. One an ageing male, and the other an even older female. The sigils on their throne indicated they were off the ministry of Discovery, and the ministry of Conversion respectively.

"Imperial Admiral Xytan. You have not been invited to High Charity!" Hierarch Regret spat venomously. "Explain yourself immediately!"

The Honor Guard rushed to block Xytan's advance, lighting their energy spears and forming a line to stop any attempt by Xytan to get past them. The Imperial Admiral stopped, looking through the Council Chamber, a sneering scowl developing across his face.

The voice of the Imperial Admiral echoed through the room, shutting up anyone who was still muttering, and drawing everyone's attention "Is this really what we have been reduced to? A trial for a Fleet Master that pulled back before his entire fleet was lost? One who prioritized the defending of our frontier worlds over a losing battle! You should all feel ashamed of yourself."

The Ministress of Conversion floated forward, her throne amplifying her voice. "I, as Ministress of Conversion, now proclaim a motion of no-confidence in the Hierarchs. For their failure to address the situation with the humans, a failure to properly muster forces in our defence and the loss of so many ships in an outnumbered defence."

Xytan stepped forward, showing he was nor armed. As he approached further, the Honour Guard tensed up, their weapons shaking.

"Is this what you want brothers? To serve heresy and incompetence? I have come here at the behest of these San'Shyuum," He motioned for Discovery and Conversion, " to show the Hierarchs that they are not above the law. And that the Covenant is more important than them."

"Treason then." Truth muttered, glancing at his armed Honour Guard. Some concern was frozen on his face.

He took another step forward. He was close enough that any of the Honour Guard that wanted, could quickly run him through. But none dared to do so. Hierarch Truth spoke up. "Kill him. That is an order!" But the Honour Guard did not respond.

Xytan held his arms wide as if embracing the room. "You know there is only one way to preserve your honor, brothers." Thel's hearts skipped a beat as he realized what Xytan was asking of the Honour Guard.

Every Honour Guard standing before Xytan lit their Energy Sword sidearm and plunged it into their chest. Their bodies collapsed before the Imperial Admiral. A shocked silence descended upon the Council Chamber as Xytan continued to march, followed by his commanders and personal guard.

The Hierarchs looked in horror at the corpses of their guards, who'd rather slay themselves than besmirch their honour by striking Xytan.

Xytan continued to slowly walk forwards, holding up his arms, glancing through the room to look at how its inhabitants were responding to the turn of events. Some looked ready to make a run for it, or go for a weapon, but the rifles of Xytan's guards were able to deter them from doing so. The Hierarchs were silent but were getting increasingly fidgety.

The Imperial Admiral walked to the Hierarchs, forcing them to hover backwards lest he walk over them. He turned around, raised his voice, and spoke to the assembled Councillors and Commanders. "The Covenant is under attack. Our trade and tithe routes are under attack by invisible ships. We have lost a great many ships and even one of our Supercarriers! A loss we have not suffered in over a thousand years. The only way for the Covenant to be saved is for the Sangheili to rise to the occasion." The Imperial Admiral said.

"You are all dismissed until the crisis is over."

Utter deafening silence filled the room as the weight of the Imperial Admiral's words sank in. He wasn't here to help a transition of power. He was here to take over the Covenant. Xytan's guards ignited their energy swords and lit their plasma rifles. A handful of Councillors tried to rise up but were immediately gunned down.

Xytan's posture and body language changed drastically. From an enlightened saviour, into a raw force of anger and destruction. The Hierarchs slowly began to back away as Xytan continued. "The Hierarchs were weak. And the Sangheili Councillors are a perversion of our true purpose as warriors. A dark age approaches the galaxy. Ancient horrors stir in the space between the stars, and I will lead us through it. Until this time of crisis is over. I will rule the Covenant in the name of the gods. " Xytan's Guards began moving the bodies of the Honour Guard towards the stage upon which the Hierarchs would be arranged. They piled the bodies high, then knelt before their Imperial Admiral, Xytan sat down upon the carcasses, looking like an ancient conquering warlord of Sangheili myth. "When our foes lie broken at my feet. I shall restore the Council. But never again, shall politicians rule warriors."

Xytan walked up to Truth and pulled the crown from the San'Shyuum's head. He placed it upon his own head, then glared down at Truth.

"Get this filth into the dungeons," Xytan ordered. A group of Sangheili walked up to the Hierarchs, tore them from their chairs, and dragged them in the direction of the dungeons. A few more San'Shyuum and Sangheili raised their objections and were mercilessly shot down as they did.

The Ministress of Conversion yelled out in rage. "You used me!" She sounded incredulous, and moments from either breaking into tears or leaping from her throne to try to strangle the Imperial Admiral. "You didn't come to help us establish a new Hierarchy, you just needed the station's defences disabled so you could conquer it! You bastard!"

"Yes," Xytan stated confidently. "How does it feel to be played, _Ministress?_" The last word was dripping with venom. "Every step you took, I made three of my own." He glanced at Discovery who was frantically pressing buttons upon his throne and looking increasingly worried. "Don't bother trying to cut me out of High Charity's systems, Discovery. All control has been routed to my armour, and your lackeys in the control room are dead."

Conversion grit her teeth, her eyes looking as if she was about to pop a blood vessel. "What you are doing is heretical. You go against the Writ of Union."

Xytan laughed. "So is hiding the existence of a sapient species. Or do you think nobody knows about your precious singing insects?" He crossed his hands and leaned into his impromptu throne. "Swear fealty to me. And you will continue to do whatever you wish."

Conversion was silent, then looked Xytan directly in the eyes, staring into the gaze which was able to make an adult Sangheili flinch, and not showing the slightest hint of weakness. "I did not help depose one group of tyrants, to place another upon a throne."

Xytan nodded in approval and then shot Conversion in the head. Her body slumped against the back of her chair, before sliding out, and collapsing onto the floor with a wet smack. Discovery looked upon the death of his colleague with horror, then at the smoking plasma pistol in Xytan's hand. The Minister closed his eyes, waiting for death. But Xytan spoke up again.

"And you, Discovery. You called me in like just any other pawn in your political games. A convenient source of soldiers and legitimacy while the Hierarchs were removed from their position." He glared at the San'Shyuum with barely concealed disgust. "But I will not break our promise. I will save the Covenant. Now go. Make me something useful."

The San'Shyuum looked at Conversion's body, then slowly sent his throne out of the room, his head held low. Thel glared at the Minister. He had been one of the conspirators but refused to die as Conversion had. It was cowardice, nothing more.

Thel couldn't hold his voice in anymore. He stood up and spoke out against Xytan. "The Hierarchs will not stand for this! They will gather the frontier fleets and raise a rebellion against you. The Covenant will fall into civil war! How could you do this while we are at war with the humans and their allies!?" He yearned to draw his energy swords, and kill the usurper on the spot. But he knew that it would accomplish nothing.

Xytan chuckled. "Yes. Truth's power base. The one which lies in the path of any human advance?" He grinned at Thel, showing his perfect white teeth. "Such a shame."

Then everything fell into place. The humans and their allies would advance as before, heading through the parts of the Covenant controlled by the San'Shyuum and their loyalists. His two enemies would be fighting each other.

"Now. Thel 'Vadamee. It is time for you to receive your punishment." Xytan said, standing up and showing his true formidable height. "Losing half a Supercarrier is a crime that can not be forgiven."

Thel looked at Xytan, not allowing himself to be cowed for even a moment. "I regret nothing. Do what you must, traitor." He prepared himself for the death that he was sure would come.

The Sangheili in the room collectively sucked in their breath and looked at Thel 'Vadamee, then at Xytan's plasma pistol. The ones standing around him backed off, waiting for the inevitable punishment. Thel stood up straight, looking at Xytan. He would not show fear before the end.

Xytan laughed. "I might require you one day." The 'Emperor' said. He motioned for his guards. "Send him to the Oubliettes of Eternal Penance. Do not allow him to take his own life, or I will take yours."

Thel screamed, trying to break free as he was dragged away by the guards.

Discovery flew away as fast as he could, fighting back the tears at the death of Conversion, and all the deaths that he was responsible for. He felt ashamed that he had refused to stand up as she had. Xytan didn't even need to demand he choose service or death. The Sangheili knew Discovery too well.

Below him, news began spreading through High Charity. Sangheili wearing the colours and markings of Xytan's warriors were marching through the streets, dispersing crowds, shouting out the announcement of the emergency military government, and shooting anyone who reacted to the news with anything approaching scepticism.

Discovery hadn't considered for even a moment that Xytan was politically savvy enough to outmanoeuvre both him and Conversion, let alone that his troops would commit heresy just at Xytan's request. He cursed himself for making such a big mistake. And for all the lives that would now be lost because of it.

Discovery brought up a holographic map of High Charity, glancing at the defensive fleet. Xytan's ships and the defences of High Charity itself were opening fire upon any vessel that had not declared loyalty and submission to their new Emperor. Priceless ships burned in the void, and Discovery felt growing guilt in his heart at the sight. He had deposed the Hierarchs and instead installed an utterly merciless dictator.

He cursed himself for his cowardice and headed towards his office. He had a new ruler and new instructions. Perhaps designing some new technology could make him feel better.

But he doubted it.

**400 hours, December 21st, 2542**

**Covenant Throne Room, High Charity.**

Xytan leaned into his freshly installed throne as the last of the Guild leaders, traders, mercenary captains, and Shipmasters had sworn their fealty and sworn blood oaths to serve him. One by one, the bodies of those who refused were hung up on hooks and raised up high to show the price of defiance. Besides his two Mkalekgolo bodyguards, the entire room was empty.

Suddenly the door opened again, and a group of Silent Shadows twelve Silent Shadows, led by a Prelate, entered the Council Chambers. Xytan grinned. The Silent Shadows had come to end his reign already. He had prepared for it. He immediately surmised they didn't try to assassinate him silently because that would not restore the Covenant's leadership. They had to be seen doing it the "proper" way. He stood up, and drew both his energy swords, not lighting them until the Silent Shadows made their move.

His guards lit their weapons and got into position, glaring at the Silent Shadows and looking ready to defend their sworn leader. But the Silent Shadows did not attack; instead, they quietly closed the door behind them, then knelt one after the other. They placed skulls down before themselves, pushing them forward as a tribute. Xytan immediately recognized them as human ones, if covered in Ceramic. He did not show his approval of the gesture, even if internally, he was surprised. He had expected an attempt to remove him, not a show of submission.

"You enter my throne room without invitation. Then offer me tribute. Explain yourself." He demanded as he leaned back into his throne. If some Silent Shadows and prelates agreed with his new order, that was fine with him. He had use of their skills.

The Prelate stood up, then glanced around, noting that the only others in the room were Xytan's guards. He slowly nodded, reached or his helmet, and removed it with a hiss. The Prelate looked young, with a fierce jawline, and the stare of a veteran of many battles. "An enemy that threatens all life is stirring. And we are here to declare neutrality in any civil war. We want to arrange a settl-"

Xytan held up a hand to silence the Prelate, then motioned for his guards to leave the room. "Leave and do not allow anyone else inside. I would speak to these Blades and their leader." They obeyed immediately and did not show the slightest hint of concern for his safety. They knew he could handle the Silent Shadows by himself. When the room had emptied, Xytan continued."You're talking about the Black Corruption. The blood of the fallen demons." He said confidently.

It had cost him years and a fortune, but Xytan had put together the scattered bits of uncensored information and knowledge about the monsters he had faced so long ago. For centuries, the Silent Shadows had been waging a secret war, unknown to any but the highest Covenant military leaders. A secret only for the Sangheili, and a handful of Prelates to know. A battle of intrigue, conspiracy, and quiet purges.

"I know of your secret war, Prelate. Of the spikes that transform those around them into aberrations. Of the stories of ships lost in Slipspace. The purges of those whose minds were warped by the machinations of the Reapers." Xytan put his energy swords back onto his belt, then gazed down upon the Silent Shadows and the Prelate. "I will allow you to operate in my territory. But never raise a hand against me or my forces. If you slay any of my commanders without proof of taint, I will root your organization out with such force your ancestors will weep tears of blood."

The Prelate and the Blades glanced at each other in surprise. Then they slowly nodded. "This is acceptable." The Prelate said. The Silent Shadows placed the skulls they had brought down upon the floor, then got up to leave.

Xytan glared at their backs as they left. Then, with the room completely empty, he looked to the right of his throne. "Show yourself, mercenary. I wish to speak to you."

The hidden alien in a form-fitting environment suit disabled her optical camouflage, appearing as if from nowhere. Xytan had smelled it the whole time. He would keep its presence a secret for the time being. Even if he was not concerned in the slightest about word of their presence leaking out.

"Admiral Rael'Zorah." An angry male voice corrected. The Quarian stood beside Xytan, the coloured glass and the mechanical sound of his suit's helmet hiding any genuine emotion or weakness in the voice. "I performed my side of the bargain. I want the ship you promised."

Xytan slowly nodded. He would kill any member of the Covenant who spoke to him in such a way. But this was a mercenary from outside the Covenant, and one who had proven vital to disabling the security of High Charity. "Do not forget that it was me who saved you from the Kig-Yar slavers," Xytan grumbled. "So be very careful with your next words. Your status as an envoy can only carry you so far."

The Quarian was an odd figure to Xytan. He and his ship had been captured by a far-ranging Kig-Yar Matriarch, who had themselves run afoul of Xytan's border patrols. The only survivor of an exploration mission, he'd caught Xytan's eye. When he'd learned just how good the Quarian was with computers, Xytan had immediately struck a deal with him. With the access codes provided by Discovery and Conversion, the eternally-suited Quarian had subverted the controls of High Charity's defences and enslaved them to Xytan's command.

He knew the Quarian didn't fully trust the Imperial Admiral, and the feeling was very much mutual. But Rael had been open to making a deal with the Covenant in exchange for his life. Xytan nodded. "One long-ranged exploration ship with a cargo of weapons and shielding units. And the cover story you asked for. You were captured by Kig-Yar and took their ship after breaking free." Xytan added. "I'll be sure none of your people finds out just how you got home."

The Quarian nodded shamefully, then slowly spoke up. "What will you do with the war on the humans?" He sounded hesitant and not a little fearful.

"You ask about humans. But your real question is about your own people. Is it not?" The Quarian's awkward silence was all the answer Xytan needed.

"The extermination will end. I want subjects. Not graves. The humans will be made to serve as another warrior Caste." Xytan rounded upon the Quarian, enjoying how the male recoiled somewhat at Xytan's gaze. "Your service will not be forgotten. When the flag of the Covenant is raised on the homeworlds of every race in the galaxy, we will raise one upon Rannoch. Your species will be a tributary."

The Quarian looked downcast, which was when Xytan sprung his trap. He made the offer.

"If your race pledges its servitude to me and my rule. We have a great many ships in storage which, while old for us, are beyond anything you have. If the Quarians pledge themselves to my rule, I can make it very much worth your while. I can provide you with a mothballed fleet, a complete replacement for the entire Migrant fleet. Weapons. Soldiers. Aid in taking back and terraforming your worlds."

Xytan offered the Quarian a smile to put him off balance. "Genetic engineering to repair your immune system. Consider what you have to gain for turning upon those who cast you aside."

The Quarian was frozen in shock. "Fix our immune system? If that could be done, we would have done so already. The kind of technology to do so-"

"Is the domain of gods." Xytan interrupted. "And we have spent a long time gathering their power. It can be done. If not to you, then to your next generation."

"I can't make that kind of a promise." The Quarian argued.

"Your people wouldn't listen to an Admiral who returns with a Covenant ship laden with cargo?" Xytan pushed further, focussing upon breaking down the arguments and thoughts that might stop the Quarian from agreeing to his proposal. But he had to try it.

A mothballed Covenant fleet refitted with weapons, for the loyalty of an entire race? That was a price Xytan would pay without hesitation. He had High Charity and a massive fleet. The Covenant would fall under his reign, and when it did, he'd bring fire and fury to the Citadel.

Xytan delivered the finishing blow. A single remark that he was sure would break any resistance the Quarian had left. He leaned forward and put extra emphasis on the words. "Your daughter could walk upon your homeworld without a suit. You have but to ask."

The Quarian was silent and remained so.

"Go," Xytan said. "You have served me well. Return to your people. Father many strong children, and take your fight to the Blasphemous Geth. I reward those who serve me."

The Quarian left the room, and Xytan was left alone in the Council Chambers.

Xytan smiled at the thought of what he had accomplished. He had High Charity, his fleet, and the support of many of the more militant Sangheili. And all he'd needed to take High Charity was a few San'Shyuum too stubborn to consider him a political player. And with the Hierarchs imprisoned, he had removed them from the picture.

The former Imperial Admiral, and now Emperor of the Covenant, stood up and crossed his arms behind his back. He could already think about how to decorate his new throne room. He glanced at the body of Conversion, which even now hung from the ceiling. It was a shame she had refused to submit. But the words of a true ruler were not to be questioned. Soon the border worlds and those Ministers away from High Charity would raise the flag of rebellion. But he was not concerned. He would unify the galaxy under the armoured fist of the Sangheili, find the Sacred Rings, and bring enlightenment to all.


	71. Chapter 71

**15:00, December 21st.  
Station Alpha, New Ghent.**

John felt his hands tighten on the coffin's roof. Thirteen large coffins had been placed on the deck. Each marked with the serial number of the Spartans that the coffins were meant to represent. Almost half the Spartans sent to fight on Chi Rho had been killed during the fighting, and none of the bodies had been recovered. The Spartans who had survived having been forced to either abandon their dead, or set off their armor's power packs.

It had been the worst Spartan casualties of the entire war up until this point. Thirteen Spartans died in a single day, with another three being crippled for potentially years to come. He glanced at the wheelchair-bound Spartans observing the small ceremony. Black Team and Grey Team were the only ones that had gotten out of the battle complete, with the latter scoring the only conclusive victory in disabling target Gamma, allowing the Coalition to loot the city for all it was worth.

Red, Green, Gold, Omega, Alpha. None had come away without losses, and all the Spartans had lost limbs or taken heavy wounds. There was a profound air of loss in the air. John could feel his cybernetic heart beating inside his chest, the sensation an awkward one. The flash-cloned hearts made from John's DNA unable to match his augmented one. He'd seen the bucket filled with failed flash-cloned hearts that had rejected the augmentations, and been given the option of either staying plugged into a machine, or getting a temporary cybernetic.

He'd been lucky. Linda would in all likelihood never walk again. She'd been operated on for a week straight by the finest neurosurgeons in the galaxy, and still needed a stroller to walk.

Fred was going through the painstaking process of flash-cloning new eyes inside of his socket. According to the doctors, there was 'barely any optic nerve left to connect to.' requiring a slow and agonizing growing process where burnt optic nerve was removed, and the intact tissue was regrown. But at least they were alive.

He'd consigned himself to Kelly being placed with the coffins before him, when he learned that an experimental treatment from the Asari was being prepared. Last he'd seen Kelly, most of her skull had been removed, while dozens of microscopic syringes and probes, which simultaneously injected a cocktail of stem cells and nanites, while electrical impulses brought her brain back to life.

But it wasn't just the Spartans living through horrific wounds. Many soldiers from all armies fighting the Covenant were surviving horrific wounds to be sent back into combat. There were the new micro fabricator/flash clone tanks developed by the UNSC, that could grow a whole cybernetic limb in under a day. The Turian cyberneticist had earned an almost macabre reputation for stalking medical hospitals and turning soldiers who were little more than burned meat, into combat-ready cyborgs and sending them back to the fight. Soldiers discharged over a decade ago were being fitted with new cybernetics and equipment, and given their marching orders.

The UNSC had lost millions of soldiers on Chi Rho. And the soldiers who had survived the bloodiest meatgrinder in human history, were fitted with new cybernetics or given organ regrowth treatments, then given two weeks of leave before they were sent back into the fight.

The analysts had said Chi Rho was covered with so much fissile material and the orbit filled with so much debris, that the planet was functionally uninhabitable for decades. He'd watched a dozen ships crashing into the planet like asteroids from a window on the Trafalgar as it limped back to New Ghent.

'_What had it all been for?'_ John knew the technical answer, he even agreed with it. The Covenant Forces gathered at Chi Rho were an existential threat to the UNSC and Humanity as a whole. It's destruction, or at least its retreat, was required to win the war. So why did it feel so pointless? Perhaps it was because the ground war was, in the end, only to capture new technology. And of the six cities, only one had been captured.

_'Never again.'_ John swore. His hand curled into a fist as certainty filled him. Never again would he allow so many Spartans to die all at once. They'd do better. He'd _be_ better.

Without a word, John tapped the roof of the coffin twice with the fisted knuckles of his temporary cybernetic. The hollow boom echoed from inside of the empty vessel. He then replaced his headdress and about faced to the door.

Standing there was Lord Admiral Hood. He looked tense.

"Sir?"

Master Chief," the Admiral stepped forwards "Could I talk to you? In private?"

"Of course, Sir."

He was led through the Station towards the inner parts which had never truly been finished. They passed through dusty hallways with sputtering lights, and approached a small room. The door opened, revealing Doctor Catherine Halsey waiting for them. Hood nodded and led the Master Chief into the room, then motioned for him to sit down. "We've been waiting for you, Spartan. Have a seat." The Spartan was about to decline to avoid breaking the chair when he remembered he wasn't wearing his Mjolnir, but a dress uniform.

Halsey began. "Spartan. What I am about to ask you will sound unbelievable, but you'll have to trust me. For the good of humanity."

He gave an almost imperceptible nod, but slowly glanced around the room for any sign that this was an official meeting. He couldn't see the reason why he was talking just to Hood and Halsey, and certainly not why it was in such a remote room. No official meeting would be held in a room that was as filthy as the one they were in.

Hood nodded sternly, took a sip from a glass of water, then began speaking.

"I don't need to inform you that the Office of Naval Intelligence has been growing in power and influence as the war has progressed. You have seen firsthand their change from leading the Prowler Corps, to being in de facto command of battlegroups. But you do not know just the extent by which they have overstepped their boundaries. Their actions might make everything we fought for, for naught."

Hood leaned forward onto his arms, fingers crossed together. For a moment, the indomitable Admiral disappeared, replaced by a tired old man.

"In the last two months, ONI cells answering personally to Parangosky have been installing new politicians in positions throughout the UEG in preparation for the ending of martial law, and a transition to civilian government. ONI intends for nothing less than the complete subversion of the civilian government, by an ONI-run shadow government."

Hood sounded a hundred years older than he was when he continued. He sounded defeated, as if he had already given up completely. "The leaders of the Home Fleet, and the UNSC Army have already sworn themselves to Parangosky's new order. "

Then Hood said what the Master Chiefwas afraid of hearing.

"If Parangosky does not stop. I will need the help of the Spartans to put an end to this madness."

He stood completely still as Hood finished talking. Every muscle in his body, finely tuned to answer to his own will, froze. Slowly, Chieflooked between Doctor Halsey and Admiral Hood.

"That is treason. A civil war." His voice was tightly controlled and leashed, but even he couldn't keep the accusatory edge from his voice.

"Only potentially." Doctor Halsey tried to mollify him. She had always been good at that. "And only in the case that ONI itself has gone beyond their authority. Are you telling me that you'd stand for a dictator at the top of humanity?"

"No." Chief said, so low it was almost a growl. Almost two decades had given him a lot of perspective. He wasn't the naïve young soldier he'd once been. The Spartan's original mission statement had been to fight the Insurgents. But after the Covenant had appeared things had changed.

He didn't like this. War was easy. Even in covert actions, you knew who the enemy was. This... **politicking** stirred something foul in him. A disgusted coil in his stomach. He thought about every time he'd fallen foul of an Inter Service Rivalry or ONI Black Ops.

"Master Chief." Admiral Hood said, leaning forwards, resting his arms on the table. "Do you recall the Oath you swore? The same as I did?"

"To defend Earth, and all her colonies." Master Chief automatically intoned, repeating what had been drilled into him as a child.

"From enemies both foreign and domestic." Admiral Hood finished. "ONI may have become an enemy. An enemy of the UEG, the UNSC, and all of humanity. They're not the Covenant, believe me, I know how distasteful it is to be sitting here talking about fighting other humans while they're still out there, but we _can_ **not** afford to simply close our eyes, put our hands over our ears, and turn away from this. ONI would use the war to control humanity, and put a boot on its face forever. Fighting for our right to live, only to let a shadowy cabal rule Humanity would render every sacrifice, every life lost fighting the Covenant in vain. It would be spitting on their graves."

The Spartan felt the urge to strike the Admiral for his traitorous words. A flash of anger jumped through him. _Who are you to talk about sacrifice? You weren't on the ground as the Covenant turned the Outer Colonies into a mass grave._

Master Chief felt his shoulders clench and his fingers curl into fists. He slowly stood up. "I should report you. You are inciting a soldier to commit treason." He could cover the distance between them faster than Hood's brain could understand what was happening and arrest him. He saw a flicker of fear in the Admiral's eyes.

"John," Halsey said, using his name, and putting an inordinate amount of something the Spartan thought might be concern, into her voice. John looked at her. "If you report Hood, you'll sign my death sentence."

In an instant, all the anger he'd felt building up inside of him fell apart. He didn't agree with what Hood was saying, but he couldn't bring himself to doom Dr Halsey. The thought he could cause her death, filled him with a profound sense of shame. John breathed deeply, and with a tremendous amount of self-control, forced his body to relax.

He didn't move. Didn't say anything. Didn't breathe. The seconds stretched out like an object caught in the event horizon of a black hole. But whatever emotion Halsey had put into words had brought the mounting anger he'd felt crashing down, leaving a gaping void. He couldn't report this meeting. Treasonous though it was. Halsey was right. He would sign her death sentence.

After a moment, John nodded his head. It was small, almost imperceptible to the non-augmented humans in the room. "If it becomes necessary, I will personally lead Blue Team in deposing Parangosky." Bile almost arose in John's throat as he said it. A part of him already felt like a traitor. There was no going back after this.

He got up and left the room. For the first time in his life, he didn't salute as he did so.

John finished sealing his helmet and walked into the freshly installed gym. He'd gotten equipped, and was going to take out some of his excess energy on the gym. Station Alpha was quickly becoming a great hub for the many militaries working together in the Coalition, and it was where the first combined technologies were starting to roll out. It had the best medical facilities, and the most advanced training equipment. And he intended to use the new High-G training arena the Turians had provided.

The Humans, Salarians, Turians, Asari, and Batarians he passed in the gym all gave him a wide berth. He walked towards the large doorway leading into the 'Artificial Gravity Training Area.' The two squads of ODST's and Turians who were about to head inside all backed off from the sheer menace that he inadvertently projected with his stride. He punched in his passcode, and stepped into the airlock, glanced over the weapon racks inside, and grabbed one of the large double-sided stun staffs, and stepped into the centre of the training area,

"Set gravity to three Earth Gravity. Set training robots to maximum difficulty. Enable weapon arms." He commanded.

He felt the increased gravity pulling down on him, even with his armor's eezo modifications fighting back. Training mechs with crude simulacra of Elite energy swords and Brute gravity hammers appeared from hatches in the floor, while large mechanical arms descended from the ceiling, equipped with weapons.

The hours passed with John barely noting their passage. He was too concerned with working off the anger caused by the conflicting thoughts in his mind. By the time that he finally started to feel the exertion, he was surrounded by broken mechanical arms, and torn training mechs. It had felt good to exercise after all the surgeries he'd been through.

"I take it there are no training mechs left?" A familiar voice came in from behind him. John turned around to see Samara standing at the airlock to the training ring.

"I'm done. You can take over the ring." John said.

"I was content to watch you destroying the mechs. It was quite a spectacle. The rest of the spectators were chased out by the Master Sergeant nearly an hour ago when the gym closed. He did not want to provoke you, and left."

"And you stayed?"

"He did not want to provoke me either," Samara said with a smile. "The mechs are destroyed, but I still desire to test my skills. Would you spar with me, Spartan?"

The Master Chief looked at the ruined training mechs, then nodded at the Justicar. He got into a defensive posture. "First blow across the chest."

The Justicar nodded and picked up one of the smaller training blades. A long and jagged Turian sword.

"There is great anger in you, Spartan," Samara said, slowly starting to circle around him. "Hidden under the surface, but ready to burst free." She stepped forward and aimed a series of probing thrusts at him, each aimed at making him show the reach and capabilities of his armaments. "You are discipline incarnate."

John lunged for the Asari, forcing her onto the back foot. She sidestepped and dodged a series of incredibly fast and brutal blows from the stun stick. The first two missed, and the third was parried aside by Samara, who suddenly stepped forward, twisted her grip on her sword, and thrust it towards his throat.

Just before the tip would have impacted and locked his armor down. John leant backwards and to the side, seeing the blade narrowly pass alongside his helmet.

"Training is important. It keeps us from going soft, or from growing idle." He said as he got into a defensive position, backing off and switching to a double-handed grip, and looking for a new opening. As he did so, Samara changed her own posture, each minute movement done to counter or prepare John.

"There is more to it than that." Samara said in her typical aloof tone of voice. "There is anger in your actions. A desire to work out frustration and rage." The Justicar flashed blue, and moved forward in a blue blur that would have been impossible to track for any human.

But he wasn't a normal man. As his heightened reflexes and training kicked in, he saw the biotic energies slowly gathering around the Justicar as she began to slide forward, moving like a ball of blue energy towards him. He kept track of the position of her weapon before she'd launched herself. He looked at the blur of blue energy, noting the strand that had been where her weapon was before the 'jump', and brought up his stun stick to block the strike.

Samara slid past him, slamming into the glass wall around the training area, thrown off by the speed and fury of John's parrying.

"Your technique is lacking, John. A Turian or Asari would have struck me a dozen times if they were as fast as you." Samara said, a kind face smiling back at him from behind her helmet. "Is this your first time in an arena like this?"

"Yes." John said. "The Turians requested a close combat arena." He grabbed the stun stick like the pugil sticks he'd used as a child, remembering the barked orders and strict discipline imparted on any Spartan that was defeated in a training duel. He moved forward, thrusting the stun staff like a spear, and almost grazing Samara before she moved aside in a flash of blue energy, and parried a series of quick strikes. Samara slid backwards, expertly using her biotics to manipulate her own weight and friction and move as easily as if she were skating on ice.

John stopped his attack, got into a defensive position, and prepared to let Samara close the gap. She was too fast for him to get a good hit in, so he resorted to letting her make a mistake. "The UNSC doesn't operate on any high-gravity worlds. Only NAVSPECWAR and Army Rangers are trained for it.

"You should count yourself blessed then. High-G warfare is some of the most gruelling there is. I have seen Commandos flattened the instant their Hardsuits failed." Flickers of blue light began to gather around Samara as she talked, her weapon in a guarding position as she slowly circled around John. John kept his eyes on her, and began to prepare for her to charge.

He wondered if he could win true close quarters combat against the Asari. He had no doubt he could beat the Asari at marksmanship and brute strength. But he'd seen what happened to those Brutes and Elites that were caught unshielded by the Asari's biotic abilities. If she Warped his Mjolnir armor, he'd likely not survive.

John stopped moving, and tightened his grip on his weapon. His grip was so tight, the weapon cracked slightly. Minute movements kept him facing the Asari. Samara shifted her hold on the weapon to one hand, tensed up her free arm with biotic energy sparking around it, then got into a position to sprint. John prepared for the flash that would precede the Asari's charge.

The instant he saw Samara's form shimmering, he struck out with the weapon. A blue blur shot past him. The staff shattered violently at the impact, breaking apart under John's grip and slamming onto the deck, accelerated by the artificial gravity. He turned around to see Samara standing but shaking, then collapsed as her armor simulated a lockdown upon being struck with the stun staff.

John was about to walk up to Samara to help her up, when he noticed that his right leg had locked up. He quickly glanced at his HUD, which marked a thin but deep cut that if it had been real, would have cleanly cut off . He'd taken a 'cut' across his thigh that would have cleanly cut off his leg, and left him to bleed to death in seconds if untreated.

"You are the first to beat me in a duel in many years, Spartan. I will treasure this experience." The Justicar said as she got to her feet. "Disable arena." She commanded, and the artificial gravity returned to Earth Gravity. The Asari removed her helmet, her eyes quickly narrowed as John didn't say anything in response..

"You are curious, and I appreciate working alongside you." The Justicar said. "But your every movement and word. I have seen Synthetics that were more… alive."

John tensed up, but did not show it. Was the Asari that good at reading a person? If she truly was a thousand years old, her sense of perception could be that accurate. But he did not suspect "I have passed all my psychiatric evaluations and medical exams." John responded helpfully. "I am in peak physical condition."

Samara shook her head. "Not that way. You look around you, expecting an enemy in each hallway. You speak slow and cautiously, every word carefully chosen, and primarily of military vernacular. Your every movement and action is that of someone who had such a thing instilled in him. There are no flaws."

John felt the tiniest bit self-conscious at the way Samara read him, and he couldn't help but agree. Every aspect of his behavior _had_ been instilled in him by the stun-sticks and disciplinary actions of the Spartan Project. He thought over a response to what Samara had said, and responded with. "Only the best are chosen."

"Then it must be a great honor to have been selected for such a duty." She said with a soft benevolent smile.

John thought back to his first day on Reach, and the stinging of the instructor's stun prods. He had been chosen. He appreciated the chance he had been given, even though he knew that what had been done to him was morally wrong. "Yes. It was."

Samara gave a brief smile, then stepped out of the arena. John began cleaning up.

John was about to return to the medical wing to visit the other members of Blue Team, when Colonel Ackerson stepped into view. He had apparently been waiting outside for him.

"Sir." John saluted Ackerson.

"Please follow me, Spartan." Ackerson said quickly. Any ideas of John visiting his fellow Spartans in the medical bay disappeared as he obediently went to follow his newest order.

Ackerson took him to one of the meeting rooms that was normally used for small strike teams, and John immediately began to suspect he had been seconded to a small unit of some kind. He went along, even as a sense of paranoia began to dawn on him.

A withered old Marine with a large patch of scar tissue on the right side of his face was leaning into a chair. The wound indicated the man had been shot from below, and blown off a good chunk of his face, and potentially brain. A suicide attempt? John had seen the aftermath in the darker chapters of the war, when Marines took their own lives rather than let the Covenant take them.

Next to the marine sat a Salarian with a cybernetic arm. The Salarian was covered in the typical STG stealth suit, and had an air of unease about him.

"Colonel Ackerson. You do not have the necessary clearance to command a Spartan Deployment."

Ackerson held up a hand, and offered John a small data crystal. John took the crystal and put it into his MJOLNIR armor. There was a brief pause. The security Clearance he'd just been given was beyond anything John had ever seen. "I did not know Cerberus Clearance existed." John said. "No regulation or field manuals mention it."

"That is the intention, Spartan." Ackerson said. "Its existence is a cooperative between the Assembly, and Section-Zero of ONI. Less than a dozen people know it exists."

"The Assembly?" John asked.

"An ally. That is all you need to know." Ackerson said. Ackerson motioned for the Marine. "Zaeed. This is John-117 of the Spartan-II Program. John-117, this is Zaeed Massani of the Spartan-I Program. You will be cooperating going forward."

"Hah! Nice to see those augments and drugs actually got put into something worth a damn. Good to meet you, John." Zaeed chuckled but didn't get up.

The Salarian that had been sitting next to Zaeed stood up, offering John a handshake, which he returned. "Strong grip." The Salarian remarked, clutching his hand with the other. "Kirrahe, Special Tasks Group. A pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise." John said, before sitting down, much to the discomfort of the chair he was using.

Ackerson coughed, got into a proper authoritative stance, and then began speaking. "I have brought you together for a very special assignment. One whose existence is known only to the highest Echelons of my branch of ONI, and the STG. To discuss a threat that was recently rediscovered by the crew of the _Circumference _Prowler, and defeated only barely." Ackerson said. He activated the holographic display, and brought up a large image of what looked like an emaciated corpse, stuffed full of glowing blue cybernetics, and with patches of what looked like purple flesh.

John examined it closely. The photograph was dated as from 2492. The date immediately reminded John of the nuking of Far Isle Colony. It was a pivotal event in human history, and a catalyst for the Insurrection. A spark of curiosity nagged at him. "Is this an Insurrectionist weapon? A supersoldier initiative?" John asked as he examined the image. The eyes of the creature were different. A timeless look of horror and suffering that seemed to leap off the image. A suspicion started to dawn in the back of his mind. Something about the look of suffering in the face of the creature made him feel a profound sense of unease.

"That's just like the damn bastard from Slipspace." Zaeed Massani muttered. "A human version of one. But I would never forget that damn glow." Zaeed cussed incessantly, and John filtered it out. He had trouble believing someone like him would be brought to an important meeting this quickly and easily. "The damn things aren't new? Well that's just damn amazing. I was hoping I didn't have to face more." The Salarian just looked annoyed at Zaeed's outbursts and continued to look at the pictures.

Ackerson nodded. Then changed the holographic projection to a short video of what looked like a swarm of the cybernetic constructs swarming across a barricade manned by soldiers in black unmarked BDU's. The soldiers fought heroically, firing into the oncoming swarms of cybernetically twisted humans. To John's distaste, there were even children amongst the swarm.

"2492. One hour before a tactical nuclear bombardment destroyed the colony." Ackerson added. "This was a week after the colonists discovered a hitherto unknown alien ruin." Ackerson flicked through to the next image. "The people who came in contact with the technology were... changed."

John thought he'd seen disgusting sights during the war. But the images of what appeared like an oncoming rush of what looked like a screaming mewling mass of cybernetically converted children, twisted and fused together into creatures straight from nightmares, charging into a crowd of civilians, still shook him to the bone. Zaeed looked visibly shaken, and glanced over at John, a look of disgust written plainly across his face.

"This" Ackerson said, pointing at one of the converted humans. "Is why the Far Isle colony was destroyed with nuclear weapons. And all knowledge of the event thoroughly covered up. Humanity has known about alien life since before the Human-Covenant War. But knowledge was suppressed to avoid a panic."

Ackerson began moving through one image after the other, each of them showing some new kind of twisted bio-mechanical monstrosity, each a more corrupted version of humanity than the one before it. "ONI-Cerberus was created to safeguard humanity from this. We had hoped that this was an isolated event. Some ancient weapon from a long lost civilization. By the time the crew of the Circumference encountered the entity aboard their ship, Cerberus had been reduced to just under half a dozen members."

Ackerson sat down, looking over at Zaeed and Kirrahe, then at John-117. "I am assigning these two to help in training the Spartan III's. Listen to what they have to say, and train your Spartans to destroy these things. You will be given complete control over the training of the Spartan Threes. You will report directly to me about your progress."

John glanced at Kirrahe. The thought of an alien helping train the Spartans seemed almost ludicrous. But he also immediately thought of what the STG agent could potentially impart in his trainees.

"That would take away from training to fight the Covenant, Sir."

"Are you soft in the head?" Zaeed almost yelled at John. "We're talking about a damn… thing! That turns people into damn cyborg zombies. We can fight the Covenant. Hell. We can win. But that?" He pointed at an image of what looked like a dozen humans twisted together into some biomechanical siege engine battering down a doorway. "Damn. I'm not cut out for this."

Ackerson ignored the outburst. "The Spartan Twos are spent, Master Chief. But their experience and guidance can help create the strongest fighting force in the galaxy. I trust you to prepare the Spartans to fight those things. I'm giving you a Carté Blanche to train them to the best of your ability. Whatever resources or talent you need, I will move heaven and earth to provide it."

"Why is Kurt not involved in this meeting?" John asked. "He is the Lieutenant of the Spartan Threes, and in charge of operational deployments."

"Because I am keeping this as secure as possible. Less than twenty people know about this. Me, the head of the STG, you three, and the survivors of the Circumference. And I want to keep it that way now we know these things can impersonate others. You are in charge of training the Spartans. He is in charge of organizing them. He doesn't need to know the full extent of this. Not yet. "

John glanced away from Ackerson at one of the monstrosities on screen. He then looked back at Ackerson. "We'll be ready."

"Good." Ackerson grinned.

John immediately knew who to find as trainers for the Spartan Threes. A Justicar, and a certain Sergeant with an aptitude for colourful metaphors.

**11:00, December 29th  
The Field of Heroes. Ethiopian administrative zone. Earth. **

Fleet Admiral Cole let out a sigh of grief as the ODST's placed the coffin containing what remained of Admiral Karandis down upon the platform. He'd been wheeled out of the hospital in a wheelchair specifically to offer his respects to his friend. The UNSC had requested that the Turian Admiral who'd led his species' first battles against the Covenant be laid to rest in a place of honor upon Earth, inside a monument dedicated to the battle for Chi Rho, and the Turian's family had agreed.

It was a courtyard large enough to fit a dozen tanks from end to end, with a large tomb at the center of it. Each of the twelve solid granite slabs had been etched with nanoscopic precision to recount the name of every human who had died in the battle. Nine million humans. Seven and a half million of whom had died in nuclear fireballs as the Covenant detonated their reactors to avoid the humans capturing their cities. A million and half who had died in the bloodiest meatgrinder in human history.

He glanced at the soldiers around him. Nobody had come out of Chi Rho better than they entered. The sheer amount of loss and suffering had cast what felt like a permanent shadow over the UNSC. Even with the sun shining brightly, and the bands playing patriotic themes, there was little optimism.

The Coalition had lost a staggering amount of its elite forces.. New soldiers could be recruited, new regiments raised. But the experience of seventeen years of war had disappeared in a single year.

The UNSC had millions of soldiers in the Army, but its vaunted Marine Corps and ODST were battered. Sixty percent of the ODST's had died, and forty percent of the Marine Corps. As the best orbital assault forces in the UNSC, they had taken the bulk of the losses.

Honor after honor, title after title. Every Chief of Staff in the UNSC had taken their turn in giving a speech about unity and respect, about cooperating against a common foe, and placed the highest medal their part of the military could hand out, onto Karandis's coffin.

He felt a hand grip his, and glanced to Lyrenne Castile. His wife who had finally returned to him after decades away. She leaned her head on his shoulder, and just enjoyed the moment together. She and the rest of her Insurrectionists had taken the UNSC's offer for a full pardon of actions committed, and returned to humanity.

Ever since ONI had discovered her identity as an Insurrectionist she'd been on the run with her fleet of fellow Insurrectionists, but she had never stopped loving him. And he had never stopped loving her. Even as she and the rest of her rebels cannibalized their colonies to become a migratory fleet, she'd tried to reach him and convince him to join her.

There were so many things he wanted to say, to talk about, and to do with her. But at the moment, all he just wanted was to hold her hand, and be close to her. Just the fact she was there filled him with a renewed purpose.

There was an awkward gap between Lyrenne's scruffy and ill-mannered Insurrectionist Captains who were attending the ceremony, and the UNSC Captains who just weeks before would have tried to kill each other on sight. But the sudden arrival of the Insurrectionists while the Covenant was in the process of retreating, had earned them a great deal of respect. Two-thirds of the Insurrectionists in the battle for Chi Rho had died, and their names had been carved on the stone as well.

"I heard there's a new colony being founded. Through the Relay." Lyrenne said softly. "We could sign up for it. Go to Eden Prime and build that farm you always talked about. You, me. Enjoying our twilight years together on a farm. My Captains will be taking their pardons and joining the UNSC, so I no longer have that commitment."

He squeezed her hand harder. "I'd like that. I wanna make the most of my time remaining. I've done my part." He looked at the nearest stone wall. "Too much. Perhaps."

"There's a Turian movie studio that wants to make a biopic about you," Lyrenne said. "Something about an Admiral working himself to death just really tickles their fancy." She chuckled. "The royalties for that probably beat a navy pension."

He smiled a full joyous smile for the first time in years. "That sounds wonderful. I'll tell Hood tonight that I'll be taking that retirement. It's about time I got some rest. Just you, me, and maybe a small dog." He closed his eyes and felt the sun shining down upon him. It was a good day to be alive.


End file.
